Dispossessed
by YellowDancer
Summary: Thinking they are doing him a favor, Kain, Janos and Vorador liberate Raziel from the Reaver, but after centuries of existing only within the sword, Raziel is no longer interested in freedom.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This takes place post Defiance—like way post Defiance. You could say I took the easy way out by setting this story conveniently after the sticky position Defiance left everyone in had been resolved, but I would say that I would rather not try to complete the canon story because I'm sure I couldn't do it justice. This story is more about exploring the concept of Raziel's life after being in the Reaver and the relationships between all the characters than it is about resolving the plot. So, don't think too hard about any paradoxes I might have missed (though I would still be interested in hearing about them). Hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

Though he had no concept of time or place—and only a fading sense of his own identity—Raziel's existence within the Reaver was not unpleasant. He hungered—but only on the most instinctive of levels—for souls and a restoration of balance, but not out of a physical need for sustenance. Other than that base necessity, he floated thoughtlessly on a peaceful ocean of blissful ignorance, riding the relentless tides of his master's moods in companionable silence, unable—or perhaps just unwilling—to respond to Kain's fits of temper except in the very definition of his current state. He imagined that he performed adequately as a weapon, though even that aspiration did nothing to inspire him beyond mindless duty.

His weariness had mounted further with every useless delay of his unalterable destiny, and now that he had served his purpose at last he could rest. Kain had found no such rest; he had become so attached to his immortality that he was determined to unravel the very fabric of history to prevent his own death. But now that he had achieved his goal, Raziel wondered what he would do with the victory. What good was it to live forever when you had no place to belong and no one to share eternity with?

The thought might have made Raziel laugh had he been capable, but he was barely capable of even forming the thought at this point. Unlike his sire, he had chosen to finally submit to fate and discovered that the way was far easier when one simply drifted along with its inexorable flow.

The halcyon eternity he passed within the Reaver was like a pleasant daydream compared to the aeon of agony he had endured in the lake of the dead. He sensed changes in the world outside his isolated prison, knew when his Kain had left him in the cathedral for his younger self to find, and later had became accustomed to the fledgling Kain's presence, knowing that many things would go differently now that the arrogant youth had been cleansed of his madness by the purified Reaver.

But none of these events could truly rouse Raziel's interest. He slept when he was not needed, ignored his master for the most part and wrapped himself in the numb solace within the Reaver's cold embrace. Time passed and he existed only in the most ephemeral sense. Despite his outrage and dread, his damning fate and unavoidable purgatory was nothing compared to the hell he had suffered at his creator's hands or the torment the parasite had so enjoyed putting him through with his delusions of godhood. Kain had actually eased his destiny by allowing him to heal the madness of the blade before he met his end within it, and Raziel had no complaints.

Limbo was not as lamentable as he had feared. It was not painful or lonely. It simply was.

It allowed him to forget. And forgetfulness was the balm that his soul desperately required.

* * *

"Raziel."

He ignored the call, burrowing himself deeper within his oblivion inside the Reaver like a sleeper who had no desire to wake.

"Raziel," the voice said with more insistence, and Raziel felt the tug of power shaking him impatiently, trying to rouse him from his drowsy isolation.

Pushing back against the force with childish stubbornness, he wrapped a cloak of mindless silence around himself again and restored his peaceful slumber. "Leave me alone," he muttered absently. "Go away."

He felt the touch of that familiar power again as it slipped past his defenses and brushed against him with a caress that felt like fingers against his spine. It touched him in ways that required an intimate knowledge of all his weaknesses and trigger points—a knowledge few had ever gained about him. Disturbed, Raziel stirred enough to take register that he had actually thought of the encounter in corporeal terms as he had not bothered to do in a very long time.

The distraction was all that the intruder seemed to require to take the advantage, and Raziel felt himself being pulled forcibly away from his comfortable retreat, tugged out into the cold and the light. He fought against the intruder desperately, clawing at the determined force with his spirit, slashing and biting—and again thinking of the struggle in terms that were far too much about the physical realm for his liking.

But he had become weak in his languid separation from reality, and he did not have the strength to fight against the power as it began to liberate him from the blade one thread of spirit at a time.

"No!" he cried despairingly. While the power was familiar, he knew that it was not the right one. When he left the blade, it was to be at the behest of his own divided soul, not his demanding master. "This is wrong. I can't leave yet!"

"Stop this foolishness, Raziel." Kain's voice was clearer and, much to his despair, Raziel was lucid enough now to clearly recognize it. Memories crashed back into his mind and he would have cried with the heartbreak of coming face to face with the sordid reality of his existence if he had been able.

The pain was immobilizing and he felt his hopeless grip on the blade loosen, his fractured soul finally slipping from the Reaver entirely with a dizzying rush. Spinning in a wave of nausea, Raziel felt at once formless and bound, still fighting for escape as he felt the weight of flesh pull him down and restrain him, chaining him to a form he had never thought to inhabit again.

Gasping with a wracking breath, Raziel pulled air into lungs with an unshakable sense of disorientation. He knew how to breathe, knew how to open his eyes and blink up at the ceiling, but he could not remember how he knew, could not even recall the irksome restriction of being bound by flesh and bone. Every sensation overwhelmed his weary mind, and he closed his eyes with another reflex that seemed to belong to the body he possessed rather than to him.

He shivered feverishly as a hand traced over his forehead, fingers resting feather-light against his skin but making him nearly sick with another wave of unwelcome sensation. Whimpering faintly, Raziel felt another tremor travel up an arm when a second hand—this one cool and rough with callouses—came to rest lightly on his wrist; it retreated almost before it touched his skin and a sound that his memory defined as the scrape of a chair against the floor made him flinch.

"Let him be, Janos." Though he had recognized Kain's voice before, it sounded flat and empty now compared to the multifaceted depth with which it had spoken to Raziel when he was still in his formless state. His senses might have been overwhelmed with touch in this form, but some things were thinner in the physical realm. "His unexpected freedom is too much for him to bear at the moment." Other sounds echoed into silence, and Raziel managed to define them as footsteps, a soft click the sound of a door shutting.

The hand on his forehead moved again at a deliberate pace, allowing Raziel to get used to the feeling. Opening his eyes a crack, Raziel squinted up at the kind visage of the ancient beside him. He had recognized the name when Kain spoke it, though most of his memories were still a muddle. "Welcome back, savior," Janos said with a sad smile. "Your torment is over and your terrible destiny fulfilled. You are, at last, free."

A soft sound escaped Raziel's throat—or rather the throat of the body that contained him—and he allowed his eyes to shut again.

"Rest now," Janos whispered, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss against Raziel's forehead.

Slipping into the grateful embrace of sleep, Raziel longed for the forgetful peace of the Reaver and mourned its loss with a grief that manifested itself in restlessness and the brutal shape of nightmares.

* * *

Leaning wearily against the window frame, Kain crossed his arms over his chest and listened as Janos drifted into the room with an easy grace that he found vaguely irritating.

"He is sleeping," the ancient said airily.

"That's all? How boring," Vorador pronounced from the other side of the room without glancing up from his book.

Kain wondered briefly why he had bothered to ensure their survival this time around. Of course, his younger self had done most of the heavy lifting, but he had certainly nudged the young fool in the right direction from time to time. He supposed he had been motivated more by the need for the vampire race to survive without himself as the sole progenitor than by his need for companionship, but Janos and Vorador knew almost as much about the tangled web of Nosgoth's history as he did, and that knowledge was something precious to one who knew a world that no one else had ever seen.

So much had changed now that Kain barely recognized Nosgoth any longer, but some things did not seem to be inclined to change on their own. The pillars had been restored, the world was in balance and vampires and humans had learned to coexist relatively peacefully for the moment, finally liberated from the manipulations of the parasite that had been twisting their fate to his own whims throughout most of history. But Kain had been unable to stand mutely by and watch Raziel begin the cycle of his sacrifice once again, not when his destiny had already been fulfilled several times over and the world had finally been healed. So he had taken a risk.

He had thought he was due a bit of selfishness after all the sacrifices he had made over the years, so he had allowed Vorador and Janos to fetch him from his self-imposed exile and had even agreed to their ridiculous scheme. They had not wanted their precious savior to live out the rest of his days imprisoned in a weapon, and though Kain had not been eager to toy with the linchpin of his freedom, loneliness was a powerful motivator.

He didn't know how Janos had managed to wrest the Reaver from the young Kain's grip, but Kain had been too occupied with his own task to care. He had traveled halfway across the countryside to find the only shell worthy of holding his firstborn's soul, and needless to say, his younger self would find one coffin already empty when he went to the tomb of the Sarafan to raise his lieutenants. As far as Kain could tell, that discrepancy would matter little since his Empire would never come to fruition in this new Nosgoth. Too much had changed to make such a thing feasible.

"Something is wrong," Kain muttered, staring out the window at the dark courtyard below and voicing the concern that had been nagging at him since he left Raziel's side. "Raziel fought me every step of the way. Perhaps this was a mistake."

Janos shifted on his feet. Kain could see the flutter of his reflection in the window. "He was disoriented. Can you blame him?"

"It was not disorientation. He was furious. He would have torn my throat out had he been able. We should have left him in the sword."

"How can you say that?" Anger was stirring in Janos' placid voice. "Do you truly feel no remorse for what he has been through?"

Chuckling, Vorador turned a page. "You forget, Janos. The only heart Kain has ever had beats within your chest."

"Raziel's destiny was always a twisted loop," Kain continued as if they had not spoken. "Have we untangled it only to damn us all to the fate we worked so hard to avoid?"

With an annoyingly perceptive reading of his reaction, Janos said with reassuring serenity, "You know as well as we do that the Reaver's purified form is no longer needed in this world. But that is not what is truly troubling you, is it? Are you afraid that he still blames you for the role you played in his cruel fate?"

"Whether Raziel forgives me or not is irrelevant." Kain's teeth ground against each other and he refused to meet Janos' eyes when the willowy vampire come to stand beside him. "I am more concerned that we have meddled once too many times with Nosgoth's already strained history." He flinched when Janos touched his arm.

"He deserves this," Janos said firmly, startling Kain with his resolve. His eyes burned with something Kain could not quite identify as he continued, "I will do whatever it takes to mend any ripples within the timestream caused by freeing him, but I will not allow that child to continue suffering. You will not doom him to that imprisonment again while I am still alive." Grasping the Reaver where it rested on the windowsill, he took a step away. "I will return the blade to its current master so that you will not be tempted by it any longer."

Sighing in frustration, Kain rested his forehead against the cool glass of the window as Janos' feet whispered across the room and out the door.

"I swear, Kain, if you upset him like that again, I won't hesitate to kill you." Vorador said, clearly disturbed by Janos' quiet exit with the Reaver. "You'd better hope he comes back in one piece."

A small smirk tugged at Kain's lips. So that was how Janos acted when he was angry. How utterly disappointing. The ancient could have at least managed a small outburst or raised his voice a fraction. Chuckling softly, he pushed himself away from the window with a hand against the glass and blinked blearily across the room at Vorador.

"I have saved his slender blue neck before," he grumbled. "But he is tempting fate with this—we all are. Being separated from the path of history as I am, I am no longer sensitive to paradoxes. I truly don't know what we have done by liberating Raziel."

Vorador snapped his book shut and tossed it on the table next to his chair. "You're fretting almost as much as Janos," he said as he rose to his feet and stretched. "And that's quite an accomplishment." Shoving Kain's shoulder roughly as he crossed the room, he grunted, "Go get some rest. You used a lot of magic tonight—enough to have an effect even on you. And you're insufferably cranky when you're tired."

* * *

**Author's Note: This is going to be a multi-chapter story. This chapter was mostly exposition, so I'll try to get the next one posted shortly to give you a little more to sink your teeth into. I have a lot of the chapters partially written, but I always look to feedback to fine tune the story as I go, so feel free to let me know what you think—good or bad.**


	2. Chapter 2

Raziel felt less overwhelmed when he woke again. The sensations bombarding him unsettled him less with every passing moment and he finally gained enough control over his brittle senses to blink up at the shadowy ceiling and attempt focusing on the wooden beams. Candlelight cast flickering shadows that mesmerized him for a time, but his wakefulness had not gone unnoticed and he heard someone stirring beside the bed.

"Raziel?"

Though he had no desire to converse with anyone at the moment, he was grateful, at least, that Janos was the one keeping watch over him. He sighed, but did not respond, allowing his eyes to drift shut and trying to reclaim the quiet of sleep before he was forced to interact with the world again.

He felt something cold and metallic being pressed against his lips. Janos tilted his head gently, tipping the goblet and arousing Raziel's dormant hunger with the scent of blood. "Drink, Raziel," the ancient murmured. "You have been unconscious for days, and you haven't fed since your rebirth."

Raziel couldn't fight the need of the body he was inhabiting and he drank the warm liquid greedily.

"That's good," Janos said as he took the cup away and allowed Raziel to rest again. "You have a little color now, at least."

With energy trickling through his exhausted limbs, Raziel felt more alert than he had in longer than he could remember. His eyes focused on the shape of legs concealed beneath the soft blankets and the pale limbs resting on top of the blanket at his sides. With a good deal of effort, he managed to raise one arm for closer inspection, feeling disconnected from the appendage despite the fact that he was the one controlling it. Catching movement beyond the foot of the bed, he noticed the full-length mirror in the corner of the room and gasped softly at the reflection hovering indistinctly within it. Turning his head slowly, he watched the comely image in the mirror move as well.

He closed his eyes tightly against the pain.

"Raziel?" Janos asked in concern, pressing a hand against his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

He didn't have the heart to tell Janos that the beauty of his reflection horrified him. The flawless form brought back too many terrible memories, and he simply could not look at the image without feeling as if he were looking at someone else. He longed for the void of the Reaver—or even the twisted remnants of his wraith form. Either would have been easier to accept than the sight of himself as a fledgling, young and whole again—in body if not in soul. At one time he wouldn't have been able to imagine feeling such a thing, but a lot had happened since then.

"Nothing," he rasped, his voice as malnourished as the rest of him.

"Rest," Janos said after a moment of silent reflection, fingers brushing strands of hair away from Raziel's face tenderly. "I will fetch you more blood."

Raziel did not listen to him leave, surrendering himself instead to a restful half sleep that helped to dull the pain coiling in his gut. When he stirred again, the chair next to the bed was empty, but the goblet was filled to the brim with red liquid and resting just out of reach on a table by the window. Janos must have placed it there deliberately so that Raziel would be forced to rouse himself out of bed.

Sighing, Raziel weighed his hunger and decided he could endure it. He had no desire to move.

"Are you waiting for something fresher?"

Wishing that he had managed to feign sleep a little longer, Raziel groaned inwardly when he saw the figure leaning back against the door with arms crossed over his chest. Kain's form was wrapped in shadow despite the light of dawn pressing against the thick curtains over the windows, but Raziel could sense his reproachful frown without having to see it.

"I might indulge you," Kain said crisply, pushing himself away from the door and stepping into the pool of candlelight, "if only to keep you conscious that much longer."

Raziel tried to ignore Kain when he slouched down into the chair beside the bed, cringing when Kain kicked the mattress the moment he allowed his eyes to drift shut. Summoning every scrap of strength he could find, he tried to roll onto his side and turn his back on Kain, but a harsh grip on his shoulder prevented him from going far.

"No, you don't," Kain growled. "You have been asleep for almost a week and my patience is at its limit. Janos is beside himself with worry and Vorador is ready to murder me for the way you're worrying his sire—because you're my responsibility. I know you, Raziel, and I know when you are simply being stubborn. Enough of this self indulgence."

Though he had not been bothered with the burden of words for centuries, a scornful retort was on Raziel's tongue the moment Kain stopped speaking—as if he had never missed a beat in the endless argument that had served as conversation between them for years. Biting down on his lower lip to keep the words from tumbling out, Raziel refused to fall victim to the trap Kain had laid for him, knowing that Kain was trying to bait him into reacting.

Kain's grip loosened slightly on his shoulder. "Raziel," he said with a thread of concern. "Did I manage to make some kind of error when I was knitting your soul back into your body? Is that what is holding your normally flippant tongue?"

The question was a little too close to the truth, though he knew that Kain had intended an entirely different meaning. Scowling, he hunched his shoulders and squeezed his eyes shut to block out the light.

"While I find the silence rather refreshing, it is highly out of character for you and therefore a cause for concern." Kain tugged at his shoulder insistently. "So unless you truly are incapable of speech, I suggest you find something to say for yourself quickly or I will force a response from your lips."

"Go. Away." Raziel bit the words out with a tremor of anger, his jaw aching with his reluctance to follow the order.

Sighing, Kain released his shoulder and sat back. "That's better," he murmured. "Though disappointing. I had hoped you might be a little nicer to me after I went to so much trouble to return you to your own body."

"This is not my body," Raziel breathed before he could stop the response, drawing in on himself the moment it left his lips and wishing that he could draw the traitorous words back down his throat.

Kain said nothing for several moments, but Raziel knew he had heard the barely audible comment. He could feel him contemplating it and didn't like where such musings were likely to take him. "Please," he pleaded, hating the submission in his voice but unable to think of a better way to distract Kain from his thoughts. "Just leave me alone."

With one fluid movement, Kain rolled Raziel toward him again and dragged him up to eye level, amber eyes scalding from inches away. Clawing weakly at Kain's hand where it clenched in his loose shirt and knowing that his delicate fingers were only managing to inflict shallow scratches in Kain's tough, leathery skin, Raziel felt panic thudding in his ears and the distantly familiar discomfort of a heart hammering in his chest.

"I don't belong here," he cried before Kain could speak, trying to scramble away from where Kain was half kneeling on the edge of the bed. "In this world...in this body. Put me back! Put me back into that damn sword. I beg you."

Kain's eyes narrowed and his hand tightened in Raziel's shirt as he pulled him closer. "Why?" he breathed, the word so faint that Raziel wondered momentarily if he had actually heard it with his ears or if it had been communicated directly into his mind.

"You know why," Raziel snapped, so weak that he was already winded by his useless struggle. "I did not endure all of that suffering just to have my sacrifice undone! You need me to keep your bloody coin on its edge, Kain. Or have you forgotten why you destroyed me in the first place?" The answer was not the real motivation behind his pleas, but he knew that reviving the old argument would be enough to distract Kain from the truth.

Frowning, Kain murmured, "I haven't forgotten. But the coin landed a long time ago, and history has been rewritten to accommodate it. You and I are no longer bound by the edicts of destiny. We are so far removed from the relevant timeline at this point that history no longer even recognizes us as a paradox. We are free, Raziel."

While Kain did not seem to be entirely convinced by his own words, Raziel cared too little about the argument at the moment to make an issue of his doubts. Unable to hold himself up any longer, he slumped with exhaustion, too weary to protest any further and knowing that Kain would not understand even if he could manage to explain himself. Kain was a survivor; he wasn't capable of empathizing with Raziel's feelings. The irony was enough to inspire a bitter laugh that burned Raziel's raw throat as it escaped.

"Are you going to stop being difficult now?" Kain asked as he sensed Raziel's surrender.

Finally releasing his grip on Raziel's shirt, Kain scraped a claw over his own wrist and pressed the wound against Raziel's lips before he could protest. Dark blood welled into Raziel's mouth and he could no longer fight his body's ravenous hunger, clutching Kain's arm to himself and drinking the rich, heady blood with none of the hesitation he wanted to feel.

Gathering Raziel into his arms, Kain sat back against the headboard and maneuvered them into a more comfortable position while Raziel continued to feed. Trapped between Kain's legs and resting helplessly back against Kain's chest as he consumed the powerful cocktail, Raziel felt the blood tethering him more completely to reality and the body he was possessing. With every drop he felt more grounded, and memories flooded back into him along with the blood, reminding him that his dreamless, peaceful escape was quickly sliding out of reach. Choking on the painful realization, he released Kain's arm abruptly and pushed it away with mulish stubbornness.

"That was not nearly enough." The harsh words rumbled against Raziel's back and he could feel Kain's acute disapproval. "Must I force you to take what you need?" Catching the back of Raziel's head with his other hand, Kain pressed the cut against Raziel's mouth again and the aroma of blood in his nostrils was too much for Raziel's control. "Now, drink," Kain growled. "Or I will find other ways to get my blood down your throat."

Unable to do otherwise, Raziel drank, and slowly relaxed in spite of himself; Kain's power-drenched blood was too intoxicating to fight for very long.

Sighing, Kain stroked his claws reassuringly through Raziel's hair and murmured into his ear, "Such self-destructive rebellion. You are your own worst enemy, Raziel. I've tried so many times to free you from your terrible fate that I've lost count, and now that I seem to have finally succeeded, you are determined to undo my efforts. Spare a thought for my generosity, will you?"

He wanted to tell him that the generosity which Kain was so proud to provide was unwelcome—that Raziel had not wanted or needed saving. He had been content in his confinement and his sacrifice had been nothing more than a release from his suffering. Kain's so-called generosity was self-serving, and his desire to rescue his damned child was nothing more than an attempt to ease his own guilt.

He wanted to say the words, wanted to throw Kain's gift back in his face, but he was too tired to do anything but lick the wound shut when he had consumed as much as he could hold and collapse back against his sire in exhaustion, gladly relinquishing his hold on consciousness.

* * *

The two were entwined on the bed when Janos finally decided to check on them around noon. Raziel had more color in his skin than he had had since his revival, but Kain looked deathly pale, his skin nearly as white as his hair. Despite their visible role reversal, Kain was the one who stirred immediately upon Janos' entrance. His eyes darted quickly across the room to the goblet of blood still sitting on the table untouched.

Deciding to be accommodating since Kain had clearly done his part to aid Raziel's recovery, Janos brought the cup to the bed and made certain that it was grasped firmly in Kain's trembling hands before he relinquished it. Somewhat refreshed, Kain handed the empty goblet back to Janos before beginning to carefully extricate himself from the bed without disturbing his slumbering child. Janos steadied him as he stumbled to his feet and walked beside him out into the hall with only a single glance of concern back at Raziel.

Scrubbing his face with one hand, Kain muttered. "I was beginning to wonder what exactly I had brought back from the sword—if there had truly been enough left of Raziel to resurrect. But it seems my worries were unfounded. He is simply stubborn as all hell. In typical Raziel fashion, he has decided to doubt my good intentions and my ability to look before I leap—rather ironic considering he is an expert at leaping without forethought." Sighing, Kain focused on Janos again. "But from what I can tell, he is relatively whole."

Janos smiled and patted Kain lightly on the shoulder. "I will watch over him. You should go find Vorador. He will fetch you something fresh from the pantry."

Shaking his head, Kain turned away. "No. I need to do some research. Something Raziel said disturbed me, and I need to make absolutely certain that we have not, in fact, adversely tampered with the flow of history. I'll find something to eat along the way."

"Kain," Janos protested, but Kain did not turn around.

"Keep him alive while I'm gone, will you? He has a knack for sabotaging himself."

Frowning as Kain disappeared around a corner, Janos ruffled his wings slightly in annoyance.

"And he claims that his child is stubborn." Vorador said suddenly, regarding him from a doorway across the hall. His lips twisted into a smirk. "Don't worry about him, Janos. Kain was more than capable of taking care of himself as a whelp of only a few days. He can certainly manage to defend himself now."

"Yes," Janos agreed with a small smile that quickly turned into a frown, "but I am more concerned about Raziel. Despite the painful history between them, he is surprisingly attached to Kain--though I imagine he would never notice or admit to that fact. Kain is the only one can get through to him."

"I don't know about that." Vorador shook his head and a frown darkened his features. "The fool seems to be rather fond of you. And he seems to be more inclined to ignore Kain's advice than take it. Kain only gets through to him because he's willing to pound Raziel's head into the wall if that's what it takes to make him listen."

His eyes widening, Janos considered Vorador for a silent moment. "You sound as if you admire that trait. Is that how you dealt with your difficult children? If that is the case, I suspect that Kain garnered quite a few bruises during his time with you in his youth."

Vorador's frown softened to a wry smile. "He suffered a hell of a lot worse than bruises. Kain's obstinacy is on an entirely different scale. His all-encompassing arrogance is his undoing more often than not."

"Perhaps. But I imagine he would not have been able to accomplish what he has without it."

"Probably not," Vorador agreed. "But it still makes me want to box his ears half the time."


	3. Chapter 3

The faint light of dawn was pressing against the thick curtains when Vorador awoke, pleasantly refreshed and comforted by the fact that Janos was resting peacefully in his bed and not pining away with worry at that foolish fledgling's bedside. Forcing Janos to take a break from his useless vigil had been a challenging, but worthwhile pursuit.

Strangely restless, Vorador reluctantly crawled out of bed and began stalking the halls, deciding that hunger was probably the need that had roused him from sleep. The whiff of blood in the air made him pause, his heart clenching when he tasted the bitter tang that he had always associated with Janos in the scent. Following the aroma to its source, he was surprised to find himself outside the door of Raziel's room. The door was opened a crack and he pushed it silently open a bit wider, peering inside with a sense of dread.

Being no stranger to lust and the compulsions of beauty, Vorador thought he understood Kain's attachment to this particular creation rather well, though he didn't find the fledgling's prickly personality to be worth the undeniable physical advantages. For his part, Janos was determined to remind Vorador of all the trials Raziel had endured and all of the reasons why his attitude was understandable, if not agreeable, but Vorador still had been unable to shake an intense dislike for the so-called savior from the moment he first met him. What had irritated him most was the fact that he couldn't quite explain why he felt the way he did.

Now, as he gazed on the macabre scene before him, he thought he finally understood. Vorador was not fond of fatalists--especially when they could draw Janos' interest as much as this one had.

Pale and perfect, Raziel stood before the mirror and gazed at his reflection as if he were seeing something dreadful, his bony shoulders hunched and his exquisite features contorted into a grimace. Red liquid dripped from one of his hands to a small puddle near his left foot, and Vorador had to clench his hand on the doorframe to prevent himself from rushing into the room and devouring the substance. As he watched, Raziel raised a long dagger already stained with the dull glow of blood and turned the blade slowly, slim fingers tightening about the hilt as he pressed it lightly against his throat before dragging the tip down along his neck to his collarbone, his grip shifting as he pressed the end of the knife beneath his breastbone.

Vorador lunged into the room as soon as Raziel closed his eyes and allowed his head to fall back, pacing halfway across the room in a step before the fool plunged the blade into his chest. A breathless gasp shattered the silence as the blade broke skin, but Vorador caught Raziel's wrist before he could do any more damage to himself, flinging the dagger across the room and embedding it harmlessly in a wall.

Eyes flying open, Raziel gaped up in shock as Vorador wrenched his wrist behind his back, and the bitter frustration and anger in those eyes only strengthened Vorador's resolve. They struggled for a moment, but Raziel was at a woeful disadvantage and they landed awkwardly on the floor between the bed and the mirror, Raziel's arms pinned down to the floor on either side of his head. Vorador had to bite down on his hunger when he felt the blood slicked beneath his grip on one wrist, but he indulged himself with a rough taste of the trickle of blood at the center of Raziel's chest.

"How dare you?" he uttered softly, glaring down at blue eyes that were already starting to fleck with darts of gold. "Your life did not come cheaply, I'll have you know. Janos, Kain and I all suffered in order to bring you back."

Raziel opened his mouth with an expression of pure fury, but clamped down on whatever he had been about to say a moment later, turning his head sharply to the side and scowling at the corner of the room. "Don't tell Janos," he said faintly.

Though the plea was unexpected, it did nothing to calm Vorador's anger. "I have absolutely no intention of telling Janos. He's already enough of a bleeding heart with you, and the last thing he needs is to know that you voluntarily put your own life in danger."

Relaxing as if in resignation, Raziel sighed. "What happens now?"

Vorador frowned, his grip tightening on Raziel's wrists. "That is the question, isn't it? What do I do with you now that you've proven that you can't be trusted? Damn Kain. So typical of him to flit off and leave his problems with someone else."

Eyes darting back to Vorador with wary interest, Raziel asked, "Aren't you even going to ask me why I did it?"

Releasing Raziel's hands and sitting back abruptly, Vorador retorted, "I don't damned well care. But I've been alive long enough to know that living can be a hell of a lot harder than dying. I also know that belief in your existence was what kept Janos alive for a very long time, and your suicide would destroy any hope he has left." Vorador licked the blood off of his hand as he rose to his feet. "So, think of that when you pick up a dagger the next time. Think about what your wish for an easy oblivion would do to him."

Raziel seemed to be seriously considering his words, sprawled uncomfortably and unmoving on the floor as he bit his lower lip and thought with such intensity that the very sight made Vorador's head hurt. Sighing in exasperation, Vorador offered him a hand and hauled him to his feet when Raziel reluctantly took it. Raziel's frame was still light, so thin as to be nearly skeletal, and Vorador vowed to make certain the fledgling ate more; perhaps Raziel would be reminded less of his wraith form when he looked in the mirror if he put a little more meat on his bones.

Vorador might not have cared for Raziel personally, but he cared enough for Janos to take care of the idiot for his sake. As for Kain, the so-called scion of balance would have his work cut out for him when he returned.

* * *

**Author's Note: Since this chapter was such a short (and angsty) one, I'm going to post the next one as well (which happens to be quite long). Lucky you!**


	4. Chapter 4

Raziel sat tucked up in a shady alcove overlooking the courtyard. The body he was unfortunately beginning to think of as his own was still too weak to endure the damaging rays of the sun, even when they were the muted hues of evening, but it was still refreshing to be outside of the house--refreshing for a number of reasons that had little to do with the fresh, cool air or burning sunlight.

He had ventured out of his bed for the first time the day before at Janos' urging, though the ancient's pleas had motivated him more out of guilt than a willingness to obey since he hadn't the heart to disappoint Janos. Today, he had chosen to venture outside because of the intricate tensions he had begun to notice between his caretakers. Janos was generous to a fault and so very gentle, but Vorador was only begrudgingly kind and often downright adversarial, never wasting an opportunity to critique Raziel's slow recovery or question his motives. The vampire watched Raziel closely whenever he was in the room, suspicion and wariness pooling in his eyes when Janos moved too close to Raziel, as if Vorador expected Raziel to make a move against the ancient vampire. The idea was so bizarre that Raziel could barely wrap his mind around the concept. Even at full strength and with the purified soul Reaver at his side he had been unable to destroy Janos. How could he possibly harm him now when he was so weak?

He had certainly done nothing to ease Vorador's suspicions with his foolish attempt to reclaim the solace of the Reaver through artificial means, but he didn't think that Vorador had cared for him much even before that. He should have known better than to draw blood in a house he was sharing with other vampires; there was no way he could murder himself without drawing the attention of his housemates long before the act was complete. But Vorador's threat had done enough to delay Raziel's death wish regardless, even if it hadn't entirely destroyed it.

Shaking the thoughts away, Raziel leaned his head against the stone wall. A flock of dark birds raced across the ruddy sky, but Raziel didn't even shift his eyes to follow the progress of black wings, though something about their formation seemed oddly familiar. His back itched. His shoulder blades twitched with the irritation, but he refused to submit to the compulsion to scratch. He found it odd that he should have a phantom pain in a body that had never had such an appendage, especially since his wings had been ruined before he ever had the chance to use them properly.

A sour smirk twisted his lips when he considered the way he had thought of the injustice. His wings had been ruined. As if it had been an accident. As if Kain hadn't been willingly responsible for the damage. When had he stopped cursing Kain's name at every opportunity—especially when it involved his attempted execution? Though it was true that he had made his peace with Kain before he allowed the Soul Reaver to consume him, it had been a stilted sort of forgiveness, one that had been growing within him for quite some time, but that he had never been forced to put into practice. Forgiving someone in your dying breath was far different than living with them afterward. He honestly didn't know how to feel about Kain at this point, much less how to act around him.

But old habits died hard and his anger had not disappeared entirely, though it did feel as dull as the rest of his emotions—colorless and bland, bereft of the passion that would make it real. He went through the motions, but felt nothing more deeply than his thin, pale skin. He had lost the energy to care and he simply endured as if living was a kind of suffering in and of itself.

Tensing when he heard the soft crunch of gravel underfoot, Raziel frowned at the tall, winged form he saw approaching. He had said something unnecessarily rude to Vorador before escaping outside and he knew instinctively that the outburst had inspired Janos to follow him. Raziel was not in the mood for his pity, but he had no desire to hurt Janos either.

"Beautiful sunset, is it not?" Janos gestured to the brilliant rosy hues along the horizon as he came to a stop next to Raziel's alcove.

Forcing a small smile, Raziel nodded.

Tilting his head and regarding him pensively, Janos asked, "How are you feeling?"

Raziel restrained the sigh that threatened to slip out of his lips—but only barely. "I'm fine." Janos invariably seemed to connect his discontent with his health, as though he were still not recovered from his resurrection nearly two weeks afterward.

"You look pale." Janos frowned, lightly grasping Raziel's chin with a claw and gently turning his head back and forth for inspection.

A less artificial smile warmed Raziel's lips. "I have always been pale. Perhaps you expect otherwise because of the form in which I appeared to you before, but I assure you that this is my natural color."

"That is not what is concerning me," Janos said simply, and Raziel wondered if Janos was as oblivious to his true ailment as he seemed. The thought momentarily panicked him. "Have you fed today?"

Raziel looked away, glancing at the bare branches of the pear trees in the courtyard as they caught in a gust of wind. "I fed this morning." The claim was only true in the most literal sense. He had not taken enough blood to truly call it a feeding, but he was hoping that Janos would not press him on the topic.

"When do you think Kain will be back?" Raziel asked, surprising himself with the question. He told himself that he was only yearning for Kain's company because it would give him a target for his frustration who would deserve the abuse.

Janos seemed no less surprised by the topic, but he recovered quickly. "Perhaps tomorrow. I am honestly surprised that he has been gone so long. Vorador claims I have no need to worry, but surely someone with the ability to travel through time could do so in a timely manner."

The comment inspired a soft laugh that surprised Raziel even more than his unexpected question about Kain. Janos seemed to be pleased by the laugh though, which eased Raziel's mind since it gave Janos less reason to worry. "I don't think that Kain is as adept with Moebius' time traveling devices as he would lead others to believe. Far be it from him to admit to anything less than perfection, but I don't think he ever had any actual training in their use. I'd imagine he learned what he knows through trial and error." Was that fondness in his voice? Raziel shook his head in disgust.

"Then perhaps he will be another week," Janos said with a shrug.

"Or a month. Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if he decided to find something better to do with his time now that he's fulfilled what he saw as his obligation to me."

Janos' eyes narrowed at the bitterness in Raziel's voice and he instantly regretted being so obvious.

"I did not mean to sound ungrateful," Raziel said thickly, unable to quite swallow the lie. "Only that Kain is the guardian of balance. He must have been motivated to free me from the Reaver by his chronic need to balance the scales--the same reason that he has run off across the world and eternity to make certain that his attempt at equilibrium has not thrown anything else out of balance. And if he finds that healing me has set things incontrovertibly out of order, he will not hesitate to put me back inside my chosen cage."

For a moment Raziel feared that he had allowed his hunger for that very eventuality to make itself known, but Janos fortunately was too focused on his comments about Kain to notice the wishful undercurrent to Raziel's words. "I will not allow that to happen," Janos said firmly. "But I think you are oversimplifying Kain's motives."

"While I hesitate to disagree with your wisdom, I know Kain too well to fall for any attempt he might make at compassion. Achieving balance at whatever cost has always been his ultimate goal, though he manages to do even that with only his own interests at heart."

Janos' frown deepened. "I understand your reluctance to have faith in him. He has mistreated you cruelly in the name of his cause, and even I have difficulty forgiving that transgression. But you did not see him after your sacrifice. He was fiercely determined to set things right just as you say, but as soon as his part in the process was complete and the Reaver left his care he became unapproachable and distant. I think that even Vorador was concerned about him. He only came out of it when we asked for his assistance in bringing you back."

Taking a deep breath, Raziel tried to fight the strange hope coiling insidiously inside of him; wanting to believe the best of Kain had always been his undoing. That failing was what had made Kain's betrayal so impossible to bear, and the reason he had continued to listen to him even when every other voice had cautioned him against taking Kain's counsel. "Am I supposed to be moved?" The words sounded childish, and strangely flat in the still air. "Kain would not have disturbed my slumber if you had not reminded him of his culpability in the matter."

Janos did not seem to have a response for that, but Raziel disliked the sorrow in his eyes, especially because he knew he had caused it.

"I am truly sorry for the way he has wounded you," Janos said finally, touching the crown of Raziel's head tenderly as if Raziel might break if he applied too much pressure.

Closing his eyes, Raziel swallowed the bitter half-emotions rising within him. "Please, don't apologize for him. He doesn't deserve it."

"Indeed."

They both started at the sound of Kain's voice, turning to find him standing casually at the center of the courtyard and regarding them with a vaguely amused expression. Janos pulled away from Raziel sheepishly, his manner suggestive of indecency as if he had been caught making a move on Kain's lover. The very thought was ridiculous for many reasons, but it pained Raziel on a level he hadn't known he could still feel. How many ages had it been since he had thought of himself in that context? He and Kain had certainly shared moments early in their personal history that might have defined them as such, but even then Raziel would have questioned whether or not love had anything to do with them.

"Is the world in suitable order?" Raziel asked drolly once he had shoved his troubling recollections aside.

"As much as can be hoped for," Kain answered, looking back and forth between them with a small smile playing over his lips. Crossing the courtyard with tediously slow steps, his eyes narrowed as he considered Raziel. "It seems that I was your last good meal, Raziel. Are you still obstinately refusing to take care of yourself?" A toothy smirk flashed across his face as he added, "Or has the rich taste of my blood ruined you on anything less?"

Raziel might have ignored the arrogant statement entirely if it weren't for the guilt-ridden expression on Janos' face as if Raziel's poor health were entirely his fault. "Quite the opposite, actually," Raziel said tartly. "Your blood rather turned my stomach and I haven't had much of an appetite since."

Laughing as if Raziel had made a good joke, Kain nodded. "Then perhaps you should have a taste of your blue nursemaid. I'm sure he would be more than willing to oblige. Maybe that would cheer both of you up."

Outraged, Raziel stood up and nearly flung himself at Kain before he gained control of his anger. "Is this lurid backtalk your petty attempt to make yourself feel better after walking in on our conversation?"

"Raziel," Janos said gently as if he were the one being unreasonable.

Turning away with another grin, Kain replied, "Ah, Raziel, you are so hopelessly transparent. Whatever you do, don't let me interrupt your sentimental moment."

"Sentimental?" Raziel cried, literally shaking with rage. He felt Janos place a hand lightly on his shoulder, but he was too focused on Kain's retreating back to react. "We were discussing your past transgressions, hardly a subject that inspires nostalgia."

Kain ignored him entirely as he slipped inside the house, and Raziel wondered why he had attempted to prolong the argument at all. Taking a deep breath, he frowned severely at the closed door, but relented when he heard a soft sound beside him. Looking up at his companion, Raziel was startled to find humor dancing in Janos' golden eyes and a talon half covering an amused smile.

Raising an eyebrow, Raziel tried to soften the bite of his ire as he asked carefully, "Have I said something comical?"

Shaking his head, Janos replied mildly, "I am merely relieved to see that you finally have some of your spark back. I have been trying for days to find some semblance of life in your eyes, but despite my attempts to draw you out of your shell, you have simply drifted through the house like an empty husk with all the aimless languor of a lost soul—one which you would have undoubtedly devoured in the not so distant past."

Raziel blinked at him in surprise before quickly looking away, knowing that he could say nothing to convince Janos of his verve for life if the vampire had already seen through his attempts to hide the lack.

Focusing on the doors Kain had disappeared through, Janos smiled. "I must admit that I am envious of how easily Kain fans the embers of your spirit back into a flame."

"Kain's ability to taunt me is hardly something worthy of aspiration," Raziel noted sourly. "If it has roused my spirit, it is only out of a thirst for retribution, and that is not a healthy foundation for living…though it has sustained me for a very long time."

"Is that all it is?" Janos inquired wistfully, touching a black claw to his lips. "I wonder."

Leery of the direction the conversation was headed, Raziel stated, "Speculate as much as you'd like. I'm going inside," and began heading for the door.

* * *

Kain found Vorador walking up the stairs from the basement avidly licking his claws clean of blood. The older vampire's habits had always struck Kain as rather grotesque. While he was no stranger to cruelty, Kain had never had much stomach for the needless torture Vorador seemed to thrive on; the indulgence not only wasted valuable blood, but also prolonged one's need.

"It's about damn time," Vorador said with a scowl when he noticed Kain. "I was about ready to tie your feckless offspring up and toss him into a dark corner of my dungeon."

A laugh found its way past Kain's lips. "Raziel tends to have that effect. I believe I've been tempted to do much the same on more than one occasion."

"Really?" Vorador's eyebrow rose as he asked coyly, "Are you sure you weren't more inclined to tie him down somewhere else?"

Taken aback by the suggestion, Kain momentarily lost his train of thought.

"So, what did you find?" Vorador continued before Kain could produce a response.

"Very little," he said absently, still distracted by Vorador's comment. "Everything seems to be in order."

Vorador scowled back at him as he led the way down the hall to the sitting room. "You took a whole week to sort out nothing?"

"I made a slight miscalculation on my return," Kain admitted with a sour smile. "I hadn't expected that my absence would be such an inconvenience."

"You wouldn't. You're always creating nuisances and leaving them behind for others to deal with."

Surprised by the depths of Vorador's dislike, Kain inquired, "Has Raziel truly been such a bother?"

Vorador's response died in his throat when the door opened to admit the subject of their conversation, looking slightly less piqued than he had outside, but still rather irritable. Frankly, Raziel's mood was not Kain's main concern; he was encouraged by Raziel's passionate reactions because they meant that Raziel was, at least, doing more than simply existing.

No, he was far more troubled by the pallor to Raziel's skin and the slim lines of his scrawny frame beneath his clothes. Raziel had never been as attentive of such mundane needs as his brothers had been, but pure vanity had always driven him to keep himself fed and healthy. Looking at him now brought back disturbing memories of the emaciated form he had inhabited after surviving the abyss, and Kain had no desire to remember that symbol of everything he had done wrong to his firstborn.

Kain wondered briefly if Raziel had heard his question, but the imperative gaze Raziel focused on Vorador led him to believe that Raziel had heard enough to know that Vorador was complaining about him. To Kain's surprise, Vorador's ferocious expression softened slightly in response, and he shifted his focus quickly to Janos who was walking through the door behind Raziel. Kain had a rather strong suspicion that the two had exchanged something in that gaze that he wasn't likely to hear spoken any time soon—at least not with Janos in the room.

"So, you went tramping off across the continuum and didn't even come back with so much as a souvenir?" Vorador said as if they had not taken the little detour in their conversation.

"Would you really want me to risk a paradox just to bring you a snack?"

"If it was a tasty one, yes."

"I already risked enough on my way back," Kain muttered, shaking his head. "I nearly had a direct encounter with my younger incarnation when I was passing through Nachtholm. Who knows what kind of havoc that would have wreaked with the timeline?"

Vorador shrugged. "That's the price you pay for deciding to live in a time period you have lived in before."

"I suppose it is," Kain agreed, raising an eyebrow when he noticed Raziel's oddly attentive expression. Raziel straightened his slumped shoulders slightly and lifted his chin in a posture of challenge when he saw Kain's eyes on him, but Kain felt himself quickly becoming mired in troublesome thoughts that were no doubt inspired by Vorador's earlier question.

"So, what kind of havoc is young Kain busy wreaking on the world?" Vorador asked after an awkward pause during which Kain and Raziel continued to glare at each other.

"The usual kind," Kain replied wearily. "Nothing new to report on that subject—or at least nothing I was able to sort out before I slipped away."

"Yes, you never were very creative about the sorts of trouble you used to make. Highly predictable, actually. I remember a time when you terrorized the entire western half of Nosgoth with that mind control spell of yours. I never could see an ultimate purpose to it all except that it seemed to amuse you to put those poor humans in compromising positions. That's not to mention your escapade with that pentalich of tarot artifact you were so fond of using on the unwary—five glorious ways to die."

Kain had stopped paying attention entirely as soon as Vorador shifted into flashback tone, his eyes still settled comfortably on Raziel with a relentless weight that he knew Raziel could feel. Shrugging his shoulder slightly in discomfort, Raziel glared back at him from beneath a black fringe of hair, a dangerous glint in his eyes. The danger hardly concerned Kain, though it did entice him, and he wandered over to the swords mounted on the wall by the fireplace with a hollow smile.

"What exactly are you planning to do with those, Kain?" Vorador's eyes narrowed when Kain plucked the swords from their mountings. "They're antiques, you know—weapons old enough to have been forged by the ancients."

Hefting one of the swords with an appreciation for the well-made steel, Kain tossed the other toward Raziel hilt first. Despite Raziel's feeble build, his reflexes were as quick as ever and he caught the sword with a fluid, whip quick motion that broadened the smile on Kain's lips. "Then they'll make perfect substitutes for the blade we both miss."

"What do you intend to do?" Janos asked, his features shadowed with concern as he stepped halfway between Kain and Raziel.

Shaking his head at Janos' overprotective streak, Kain snapped, "Nothing that won't do your sulking patient a world of good. I'd wager that a bit of exercise would help him relearn the value of keeping his body well fed."

Raziel rose from his perch on the arm of a plush leather chair, his stance as perfect as it had ever been. Murder burned in his eyes, and Kain decided that Janos was defending the wrong party entirely.

"Not in the house, for god's sake!" Vorador cried. "Using those swords is bad enough, but at least have the decency to impale each other out on the grass rather than on my carpet."

Bowing his head slightly at Vorador to calm the cranky old bastard, Kain led the way back to the courtyard, Raziel following on his heels and watching his every move as if he might make a surprise attack before they got there. Janos reluctantly let them both pass with a frown scoring his face, but he made no further objections; Kain had half expected the ancient to follow them outside, but it seemed that Janos was begrudgingly willing to trust him with his own fledgling—for the moment, at least.

The sun had slid beneath the horizon while they were inside and stars hung like jewels in the darkening velvet sky. With the coming night, Kain felt his strength increasing, and he spun about to face Raziel with an energetic flourish of his blade. Regarding the sword grimly, he said, "It's not the Reaver, but it will do."

Raziel flinched at the mention of his recent prison, gazing sidelong at the sword gripped in his own hand. "It's been a long time since I've held a sword—I've grown used to being on the other end of things, so to speak."

While Raziel was still lost in his reverie, Kain lunged toward him, rewarded with a quick reaction as Raziel deflected his attack and slid out of the way, using Kain's forward motion against him. Smirking, Kain turned just in time to counter an attack from Raziel, catching their swords together and twisting so that Raziel was unable to parry. The encounter became a struggle of endurance as they each fought to break their blade free from the tangle. Raziel managed the contest fairly well considering he was far weaker than he used to be, but his arms were quivering with the exertion before he threw his weight sharply to the side in a desperate maneuver that allowed him to break free and escape the swipe of Kain's sword.

Kain was pleased with how well Raziel had adjusted to his current condition, using the quickness of his light build as an advantage and guarding his weaknesses carefully. He had expected nothing less from his prized student, but he always left a little room for Raziel to disappoint him. Even so, in all the years he had known him, Raziel never had.

They danced across the courtyard in broad arcs of motion, giving and taking territory in bits and pieces, and Kain watched the rising fire in Raziel's eyes with satisfaction. Kain pushed him to his limits, forcing Raziel to make decisions between giving ground or losing a limb, and Raziel met him blow for blow, though his recovery time lengthened as the contest wore on. He eventually slid to a wavering stop against a column in the center of courtyard after a less than successful evasion that had painted his blood across the paving stones.

Panting for air, Raziel regarded Kain warily, knowing that Kain wasn't above taking advantage of the opening and hitting him while he was down. Kain could sense that Raziel was on the verge of collapsing, and that he probably wouldn't get up again if Kain knocked him down one more time. Pacing in a slow circle around his weary lieutenant, he admired the proud lift of Raziel's chin and the half-tensed posture that he maintained even in his exhaustion.

"First blood is mine," Kain noted. "Shall we call this match decided?"

Gathering enough breath for speech, Raziel snarled, "It's not finished yet."

"You intend to continue, then? There won't be any irresolvable paradox to intervene in our battle this time."

"I wasn't counting on one."

Pausing, Kain regarded Raziel more closely, wondering how much of his fatigued manner was an act. "I could keep going all night, if that's what you wish."

"Then, continue." The words came out in a shout as Raziel leaped at him and nearly sliced open his thigh before Kain could rush to avoid the blade.

"You're operating on your last reserves, Raziel," Kain cautioned, shifting his stance slightly to provide an obvious opening. "Sooner or later you will run out."

Recognition flickered through Raziel's eyes and Kain knew that he had noticed the opening. Kain waited in silent anticipation to see if Raziel would fall for the trap, meeting his weighing gaze with an arched brow. Raziel moved, his sword darting toward the weakness in Kain's defense, but he turned at the last possible moment, twisting his wrist and altering the angle a split second before Kain sprung the trap. Unable to shift directions quickly enough at such close quarters, Kain sucked in a breath as the tip of Raziel's blade traced a line of blood across his abdomen.

"Don't toy with me," Raziel hissed as he limped back a pace, still gulping down air in ragged gasps. "I learned that trick when I was an infant."

"Forgive the insult, Raziel, but I thought it would be in your best interest to end this quickly. If you keep stumbling around in utter exhaustion, you're liable to inadvertently skewer yourself on my blade."

"I don't need any favors from you." Raziel tossed sweat-dampened hair out of his face. "Perhaps you've forgotten, but I won our last contest."

"Raziel," Kain sighed disparagingly. "Surely even you can recognize that battle would have ended in a draw if not for an unexpected stroke of luck."

Raziel's eyes flashed fiercely "The luck was all to your advantage as I recall. I claimed my victory even as the Reaver was stealing my soul."

"Yes, it was very charming." Kain grinned, pressing his palm dramatically against the scar on his chest. "Your enthusiasm quite literally captured my heart, Raziel."

Eyes narrowing, Raziel said, "You are not allowed to make that joke ever again."

"It was inevitable, you know."

"That's why I'm forbidding you to repeat the error."

Kain shook his head with a chuckle, deciding their charade had gone on long enough. Raziel would keep fighting until he fell over unless Kain demonstratively took control. "Don't presume to give me orders until you have the victory in hand," Kain advised as he swung his blade toward Raziel in a powerful arc that he knew Raziel would easily avoid.

Carefully orchestrating each strike, he maneuvered Raziel back toward the uneven footing surrounding the columns, chasing him through one arch and another until he had Raziel cornered. Sensing the trap closing in on him, Raziel made one last, frantic play at freedom before Kain pinned him back against a column, their swords intertwined and Raziel's arm twisted uselessly halfway behind his back. Using his weight for leverage, Kain pressed Raziel against the marble and smiled.

"Vae victus," he murmured with his lips a breath away from Raziel's ear.

Raziel struggled for a moment with a soft growl of frustration, but he was simply too weak to win against Kain's brute strength. "Bastard," he said finally, the fight draining out of him as he slumped back against the column. "You were playing me from the beginning."

"What did you expect me to do? Cut you to ribbons simply because I can?"

Glaring up at him through eyes narrowed to slits, Raziel responded, "I expected a fair fight. How foolish of me to expect anything of the kind from you."

"A fair fight would have left you with your pretty face buried in the dirt the first time we crossed blades. Your body is weak, Raziel, and no amount of skill can make up for that entirely." Tugging the sword from Raziel's hand, Kain pulled away from him reluctantly. "You will never have a chance of besting me as long as you fail to take care of yourself."

Lips twisting sourly, Raziel concluded, "So, this was all about teaching me a lesson, then. A patronizing attempt to prove your point."

"Not an 'attempt,' Raziel. I believe my point's been made."

"I'm not impressed."

Kain shrugged. "Perhaps not, but I imagine you are rather famished after all of that exertion on an empty stomach."

Raising a hand with a baleful expression, Raziel said, "Please, don't offer me one of your veins again. I'll find my own food."

"I have no intention of making such an offer," Kain retorted with a grin. "You have to earn the opportunity for a second taste."

"Well, considering how little I cared for the first sample, I doubt the reward would be worth the effort."

Still limping, Raziel brushed past Kain on his way back to the house, clearly trying to walk normally though he was hurting. Kain shook his head as Raziel stumbled up the stairs and inside stubbornly refusing to give in to his exhaustion. Even at an age over a thousand, Raziel could still act like such a child at times.

* * *

**Author's note: Janos is such a mom! It's ridiculous. But he's so freaking adorable that way. He can't help it that he's the nicest person in Nosgoth. **

**I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. I just love writing Kain and Raziel arguments, and I even got to work in a little fighting and some cheesy humor. All of my favorite things. See you next time! **


	5. Chapter 5

Raziel hadn't intended to make contact—had only been wandering through Uschtenheim in search of a meal, and had not even realized that the Kain who belonged to this time period was in town. He supposed he had been curious about how different Nosgoth was in this era and how much had changed because of the revisions he and Kain had made to the timeline. And he supposed he had been a little intrigued by the sight of the Reaver on that rather narrow back. But he hadn't consciously intended to end up in a cloistered alley with that very sword pressed against his throat.

Seeing the Reaver had brought Raziel's half-buried wishes back to the forefront of his mind, and he had found himself following the twisted blade down the street before the dangers inherent in the situation registered. He hadn't even paid attention to the vampire who was carrying the weapon until Raziel was close enough to see the silken strands of pale hair falling across the sword. Realizing his mistake, he had gasped softly and attempted to escape without notice, but the wielder of the Reaver—though relatively young compared to the Kain he was used to—was too perceptive to miss him.

"What have we here?" Kain muttered as he forced Raziel back against the brick wall.

Raziel was stunned by the smooth, aristocratic curves of Kain's face, the alabaster skin that seemed to blend directly into strands of colorless hair. He had never encountered a version of Kain who was so human in appearance, and the startling beauty of golden eyes glaring at him out of that expanse of creamy skin was enough to distract him completely.

"You're like me," Kain noted, eyes narrowing appraisingly. "Aren't you?"

"Yes," Raziel agreed rather breathlessly.

"Well," Kain said, arching a snowy brow, "I don't intend to share any potential meals with anyone. I suggest you hunt elsewhere."

Raziel's attention shifted to the metal pressed against his neck, his dread changing to wonder as he considered the fact that the Reaver had not reacted at all to his presence. It seemed that his soul was genuinely free of the sword, though his feelings on that realization were still torn between relief and disappointment. Perhaps his wish to return to the oblivion within the Reaver was no longer even possible.

Kain pressed the edge closer to Raziel's skin. "I have encountered few vampires in my travels. Are you one of Vorador's?"

The question caught Raziel off guard and he feared that he delayed too long in responding. "Yes. Vorador sent me out to restock his pantry."

Nodding, Kain slowly eased his pressure on the blade and then backed away a step. "That sounds like Vorador."

Relieved, Raziel took an unsteady breath and tried to think his way out of the alley and away from Kain as quickly as possible.

"You are young, aren't you?" Kain asked catching Raziel's chin in a very human hand that was surprisingly strong despite the elegant bones beneath the skin. "Recently turned, I would wager."

"Two months ago," Raziel answered stiffly, enduring Kain's inspection.

"I thought so." Kain smirked as he released Raziel. "You're too handsome yet to be very old. Judging by the way such relics as your sire appear, we don't have much to look forward to in our old age."

Raziel blinked at him, uncertain how to respond. Knowing how Kain would age and evolve, he didn't think that this young version had as much to worry about as he suspected—but perhaps he was biased since he had only ever known Kain in his older state. Now that he had the opportunity to compare, he had to admit that Kain had been an attractive man in his youth, though the svelte physique and nearly feminine beauty seemed a bit jarring to Raziel; Kain had always been defined in his mind as being sturdy and a bit rough around the edges, so the softness didn't quite translate for him.

"How is the old curmudgeon doing, anyway?" Kain asked as he returned the Reaver to its place on his back.

Thrown by Kain's continued interest in conversing, Raziel rubbed absently at the thin cut on his throat. "Fine," Raziel murmured. "As fractious as ever...I would imagine."

"Good." Kain smiled faintly, and Raziel didn't quite know what to make of the doleful expression in his eyes.

"I have to go." Raziel began retreating to the opposite end of the alley. "Vorador doesn't like it when I'm late."

"Not terribly social, are you?" Kain protested halfheartedly.

Raziel hesitated, realizing suddenly that the expression in Kain's eyes had been loneliness; he hadn't imagined that Kain had ever been capable of such an emotion. "I don't make a habit of socializing with anyone who has recently attempted to slit my throat," Raziel said tightly, realizing suddenly that he was lying. He spent most of his time with company that had attempted to kill him several times over—the very same company, in fact.

"Go, then," Kain said with a wave of his hand. "I'm sure I don't need a coward for a companion."

Teeth grinding, Raziel glared at Kain's back as he turned; it seemed that Kain could manage to get under his skin even when he didn't know him. "Wait," he said softly, and Kain looked back over his shoulder with a painfully smug expression that made Raziel instantly regret changing his mind.

"Die, monster!"

They both slid into a battle stance the moment they heard the cry. Though there was no official campaign against vampires sweeping across Nosgoth at the moment, there were still plenty of vampire hunters who would rather rid the world of every vampire they could find than suffer them to live. Kain lunged at the hunter before the mortal could strike, his movements a fraction less fluid, but still disturbingly reminiscent of the Kain Raziel knew.

Another hunter cried out from behind Raziel, and he spun around to face him, drawing the sword he had claimed from Vorador's armory. The intoxicating scent of blood quickly filled the alley as they fought, and Raziel's growing hunger drove him to finish the contest quickly. He picked the hunter's repertoire of attacks apart easily and took advantage of his weaknesses with a devastating series of blows that left the hunter clutching his side and gasping for breath. Smiling grimly, Raziel drew the dying warrior close and drained him, remembering with savage nostalgia how the adrenaline thrill of the hunt sweetened the blood.

Comforting familiarity tingled at the back of his mind as more hunters poured into the alley, and he and Kain stood back to back for a moment and considered their enemies with dark contemplation, deciding which of them would die first.

* * *

"Checkmate."

Vorador's fangs shone dully in the candlelight as he grimaced. "I really hate this game."

Smiling with insidious grace, Kain began organizing the chess pieces. "Why? Because you always lose?"

"I don't always lose," Vorador retorted.

Quirking a brow, Kain noted, "That's three games in a row."

"I don't _always_ lose." Scowling, Vorador leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest with a harrumph. "I get so bored with the damn game that I stop paying attention entirely. That's the problem."

Kain began positioning the pieces on the chessboard again with a bitter smile. "I wish Raziel would turn up. Then, at least, I'd have some competition."

"That fickle twat?" Vorador's brow arched. "I'd be surprised if he could stay focused on the game more than a minute or two."

Smiling, Kain shook his head. "No. Raziel's actually quite good. He adores puzzles."

Leaning forward in his chair, Vorador commented conspiratorially, "If it's a challenge you're looking for, you should play a game against Janos. Sometimes I suspect he invented the lousy game."

Considering the prospect, Kain glanced at the ancient vampire tucked up neatly on a stool with his wings spread slightly behind him. "Why not?"

"Janos," Vorador said, nearly leaping to his feet. Kain had no doubt that he was looking forward to watching Janos clean Kain's pieces from the board. "Trade places with me."

"I suppose I could play a game," Janos said pensively as he looked up from his book. Glancing at the windows as he crossed the room, he murmured, "Raziel has been gone a long time."

Nodding, Kain agreed mildly, "A damned nuisance isn't he? One day he's starving himself and the next he's off hunting for hours. I think he prides himself on always doing the opposite of what seems reasonable."

"Sounds like someone else I know," Vorador sighed as he settled into a chair.

"So..." Janos said as he regarded the board. "Do you want black or white?"

Kain chuckled. "White, of course."

* * *

They were forced to flee the town entirely before the skirmish was over, the brawl eventually drawing the attention of the night guard and more soldiers than either of them cared to take on at once. Catching his breath as he leaned against a tree, Raziel wished that he would have trained a little more before deciding to go off on his own to hunt; while his strength had greatly improved since his rebirth, his endurance was nothing compared to what it used to be. Of course, he was most recently used to his wraith form, in which he could fight, run and swim without lungs to hold him back. Technically speaking, he didn't need the air as a vampire either, but his body didn't seem to be convinced by that argument.

"Invigorating, isn't it?" Kain asked, grinning down at the town in the distance while he perched himself on the edge of a craggy boulder. "It's been quite some time since I've fought that many at once."

"Yes," Raziel agreed, finally gathering the strength to step away from the tree. "We must have decimated half of the town."

"The wretched humans are overpopulated anyway." Eyes focused on Raziel with dark curiosity, Kain turned toward him, his expression a bit too intimate for Raziel's tastes. "You're very skilled with that blade."

Surprised by the statement, Raziel considered it warily and tried to ignore Kain's eyes as they continued to examine him, burning with such intensity that they seemed to see right through his clothes and down to his bare skin. "I…had a good teacher," he admitted begrudgingly. Even if his current company couldn't gloat about the accomplishment or recognize his part in it, Raziel still found it difficult to compliment Kain to his face.

Kain's eyes narrowed with an oddly cunning smirk. "Vorador is one of the most powerful beings I have ever encountered, but I have never suspected him of being a teacher."

"He didn't teach me." Raziel turned away so that Kain would find it more difficult to read his expression; he had never been very good at lying—especially to Kain. "One of my…brothers taught me. He was a nobleman in his previous life and well trained in the arts of war."

"Really?"

Raziel flinched at the eagerness in Kain's tone.

"I believe I'd like to meet this teacher of yours."

"I'm afraid that's not possible," Raziel replied a bit too quickly.

"Ah, I see," Kain nodded, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head thoughtfully. "That's too bad. He might have figured rather well into my plans."

Raziel studied Kain for a moment, knowing he was being rather obvious about the scrutiny, but unable to restrain his curiosity. "Your plans?" he prompted when Kain seemed inclined to let his comment go unexplained.

"Yes." Considering Raziel again with a soul-searing gaze that traveled the full length of his body before returning to his eyes, Kain purred, "Though you might serve my purpose just as well."

Raziel shivered as he looked away. He couldn't count how many years had passed since Kain had last given him a look like that; it was both flattering and suffocating, equal portions of longing and possessiveness. Whenever Kain looked at him like that, Raziel was bound to end up in some sort of compromising situation, for as much as he hated submitting to Kain in any fashion, that look cut right to his core every time and he felt utterly defenseless against it. He should have listened to his instincts before; the sooner he escaped this younger, more ambitious Kain's presence, the safer he would be.

"It's getting late," Raziel noted, indicating the faint glow brightening the horizon. "I really should be getting back."

"I believe I will join you," Kain said with resolve, stretching his arms over his head as he straightened. "It's been a long time since I've seen Vorador, and if the rest of his fledglings are as capable as you, then I have even more reason to investigate."

"No!" Raziel only barely suppressed the immediate grimace that his thoughtless reaction inspired. Taking a calming breath, he met Kain's startled gaze and continued with more control, "I don't think that's a good idea. Vorador has been in a terrible temper of late and I am the only fledgling who hasn't found a suitable reason for staying away from the mansion entirely."

Chuckling, Kain smirked. "I'm not afraid of that decadent old bastard's temper tantrums. You'll have to find a better reason than that to keep me away."

Raziel cursed silently, trying to come up with another solution. "You will only make his temper worse, Kain," he protested finally, catching his mistake as soon as the name left his lips. Kain's eyes widened, but he forged on in spite of the slip. "Yes, I know who you are. Vorador told me about you, and I recognized you from his stories as soon as I saw that twisted sword of yours. And I can tell you honestly that you will not be welcome in his mansion right now."

"How rude. After everything I've done..."

Seeing the wheels turning in his eyes, Raziel realized that Kain would now be only more interested in seeking Vorador out. He had to distract him. "But perhaps you and I could meet somewhere else to discuss your plans?"

Wondering why he had just made such a ridiculously foolish offer, Raziel tried to school his features to complete sincerity and waited with bated breath for Kain to reply. Though he knew how much he was tampering with the timeline by even speaking to young Kain, allowing him to show up at Vorador's mansion and possibly run into his older self was a paradox Raziel was not willing to risk. That wasn't to mention the lecture he was likely to get for his carelessness and the satisfaction older Kain would garner from the situation if he found out about his blunder.

"I've just realized that I don't even know your name," Kain said softly, a glint in his eyes hinting that he knew Raziel was not being entirely truthful.

Thinking quickly, Raziel briefly considered lying about his name, but he didn't want to risk another lie at this point. And what difference would his name make in the end anyway? It wasn't as if this Kain had a reason to recognize it. "Raziel," he said faintly, resigning himself to his decision.

Kain nodded. "Very well, Raziel. I'll meet you behind the King's Tavern in Nachtholm in a week."

Feeling dread turning his insides into knots, Raziel murmured, "Agreed."

"Until then." A small smile curved Kain's lips as he stepped up to the edge of the cliff and evaporated in a flurry of bat wings.

Clutching his forehead, Raziel groaned. He was playing with fire and he knew it, but fire had always been his element and he had never feared getting burned as much as he should have.

* * *

Kain despised losing. If Vorador hadn't already had his fill of watching him suffer before shuffling off to bed, Kain might have attempted a comeback. But as it was, working that hard to come out victorious without an audience would be less than worthless; Janos didn't seem to relish his impending triumph regardless, and Kain had no doubt that the benevolent ancient would say something to appropriately soothe Kain's ego no matter the result.

Resting his chin against his palm, Kain watched as Janos made another inscrutable move across the board, his expression as amicable as ever as he rested back in his chair. Though Kain had no doubt that Janos had played enough games of chess to see several steps ahead of every move, he took a painful amount of time on each turn. To his credit, his chosen move usually ended up surprising Kain, but the very tedium of the coolly logical pauses was enough to suck any possible joy out of the experience.

Regarding his remaining pawns, Kain wondered which one he should sacrifice to Janos' inevitable victory next.

"What if he isn't back by morning?"

Kain glanced up at Janos, his tired mind taking longer than expected to formulate a response. "Raziel? He'll be back." He made his move, the pawn landing on the board with a sharp clack.

"What if he isn't?"

Shaking his head, Kain muttered, "Raziel can take care of himself."

"He is still weak."

Meeting Janos' concerned gaze, Kain sighed. "If he is not back by morning, I will go find him. But I can guarantee that it isn't his lack of strength that will get him into trouble. He was amazingly good at getting himself into difficult situations even when he was nearly invincible."

"I suppose you're right." Janos tilted his head and bit his lower lip as he considered his next move.

"I know it's in your nature," Kain muttered, "but is it absolutely necessary for you to fuss over him every moment of the day? Surely you didn't fret over Vorador's wellbeing like this when he was a fledgling?"

A gentle smile tugged at Janos' dark lips as he moved his knight to capture Kain's pawn. "Vorador always loathed it when I fretted over him. But I think he also secretly enjoyed the attention."

"That I could believe. But I still have a hard time imagining you worrying over a man who has never outgrown the habit of playing with his food."

Janos cringed, but managed to smooth the expression with a soft sigh. "Vorador has unusual tastes, to be sure. But he has suffered much at the hands of humans. I suppose he has a right to his poor opinion of them."

"A poor opinion is one thing." Kain picked a chess piece at random and shoved it across the board. "But Vorador treats them like baubles in a toy store window rather than meat fresh from the butcher."

"Are you honestly critiquing his treatment of the humans, Kain?" Janos asked sweetly.

"I would never condescend to judge him on that point," Kain muttered obligingly, "but the fact remains that he is appallingly wasteful at times."

"I suppose." Claiming another one of Kain's pawns, Janos said, "But to answer your previous question, I only voice my worries about Raziel because you refuse to voice yours."

"My worries?" Kain laughed. "I believe you're projecting, Janos. If I worried every time Raziel did something idiotic, I would never get any rest."

"You certainly aren't getting any rest now," Janos pointed out with irritating shrewdness.

Kain glared silently at him but relented when he felt Raziel's presence at the edge of his perception. "I did not stay up to wait for him, if that's what you're implying," he pronounced sharply. "But if that was your reason for engaging in this little diversion, you can rest easy. He's home."

"Don't pretend you don't care, Kain," Janos rebuked him. "You are as relieved as I am."

Kain raised an eyebrow but Janos had already looked away with a small smile. Rising to his feet, Janos glided across the room to the door and reached it just in time to meet Raziel as he was walking down the hall. With black hair tangled about his face and his clothes rumpled, Raziel was rather humorously disheveled, but Kain was pleased with the healthy glow to his skin and the swagger to his steps as he walked into the room. Kain leaned back in his chair to watch as Janos fussed over him.

"Were you attacked?" Janos asked as he attempted to put Raziel's hair into order.

"A few vampire hunters," Raziel said with strained patience, ducking away from Janos. Raising his hands in a reassuring gesture, he added, "I'm fine. They were easy prey."

Pursing his lips, Janos commented, "You were gone a long time."

"I'm sorry for worrying you." Raziel smiled gently, and the expression struck Kain as being a little disingenuous; he had seen that look on Raziel's face before, and it had always been when he was trying to cover up something that he had done—something he knew Kain wouldn't like. "I just wanted a little time alone."

Kain could certainly relate to that sentiment. Though having company around was a pleasant change of pace, he was too used to being alone to endure the constant burden of social etiquette for very long. Raziel was nearly as independent as he was, and he wasn't surprised to hear that Raziel chafed at the lack of privacy in Vorador's mansion. Even during the early years of Kain's empire, Raziel had gone off on his own from time to time—though Kain imagined that had as much to do with his belligerent brothers as his autonomous streak. The part that concerned him now was not that Raziel had chosen to exercise his independence. It was the guilt in his eyes.

"I didn't realize there were vampire hunters in Uschtenheim," Janos said, glancing at Kain as if he should have known about the danger.

"There are vampire hunters everywhere." Kain shook his head in amazement at Janos' naivete. "Even without Moebius stirring up the rabble, there are plenty of humans who think we're a plague."

"Well," Raziel said calmly, "There aren't any vampire hunters in Uschtenheim anymore."

Kain smirked at the pride betrayed in the twist of Raziel's lips.

"It's getting quite late," Janos noted. His eyes darted back and forth between the two of them as if he were making a mental comparison. Kain certainly couldn't blame him if he were; even he could see the resemblance at the moment. "If you don't mind me retiring early from our match, Kain, I'm going to head for bed."

"Of course," he murmured and watched as Janos inclined his head at both of them before exiting the room, his dark wings brushing against the doorframe as he passed. Just as Kain had expected, Janos had found a way to end the game without wounding his ego.

Raziel shifted his gaze back to Kain when Janos was gone and drifted across the room nonchalantly in his direction. "Were you two mother hens staying up out of worry for me?" he asked with a barbed smile.

"We were having a little contest," Kain countered. "I thought that much was obvious. While I can't speak for Janos, my life hardly revolves around you."

Studying the chessboard, Raziel slunk down into the chair Janos had recently vacated, something about his manner undeniably weary though he had clearly fed well. "It looks like you were losing." His eyes sparkled with amusement as they flicked back up to Kain.

"Though he is not the best strategist I know, Janos is remarkably good at the game."

Raziel nodded. "And you were distracted."

"Don't you start too," Kain muttered. "I was not waiting up for you. You should know me better than that."

A smile ghosted across Raziel's lips. "I do."

Sitting forward, his hands clasped and his elbows resting on the arms of his chair, Kain quickly changed the subject to one that intrigued him far more. "So, other than the troublesome humans, did you find anything interesting in Uschtenheim?"

Raziel looked down at the table; his expression was completely composed, but Kain caught a spark of anxiety in his eyes before he looked away. "Nothing of consequence."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Snow and ice." Raziel's tone had a sharp edge. "That's about it."

Kain smiled. "Lovely town, isn't it?"

"Cold as hell."

"Oh? Has hell recently frozen over? Last I checked it was rather balmy there."

Looking up at him again with exasperation in his eyes, Raziel fought a smile but it tugged at his lips with determination. "You ought to know."

"Ah, that was weak, Raziel."

"I suppose it was," Raziel admitted, surprisingly gracious. "In any case, I imagine I know a lot more about the underworld than you do seeing as you sent me there."

Kain didn't know quite how to take that statement—or how to respond to it. Raziel had said it with very little bitterness—matter of fact, as if talking about a bit of history that had nothing to do with him—and that made it much more difficult to interpret. "Raziel..."

Shaking his head briefly, Raziel rescued him from his aimless sentence. "I wasn't trying to bait you." Lips twisting wryly, he added, "It's just habit."

Kain shrugged. "If you want to take cheap shots at me, feel free. I'm sure I can handle it."

"There's no point." Raziel sighed. "An eternity has gone by since then. I can barely muster the emotion to feel outraged by it any longer."

Vaguely disappointed, Kain frowned at the chessboard. "And here I was expecting a fiery argument. But your heart hasn't quite been in it since you surrendered to that sword, has it?"

"Are you saying you actually miss our knock-down-drag-out fights?"

"A little. They were always amusing." Kain's smile faded slightly as he added, "I nearly died of boredom after you were gone."

"I have a hard time believing that." Raziel smiled tightly. "After all, your world doesn't revolve around me. Isn't that what you said?"

Laughing, Kain observed, "You're getting better with your comebacks already. Keep it up and you'll be tearing my pride to shreds in no time."

Raziel shook his head. "I'm a quick study, but your pride has always been unassailable."

"If anyone could find a way past my defenses, it would be you." Yawning widely enough for his jaw to pop in protest, Kain dragged himself out of his chair. Stretching, he announced, "I believe I will follow Janos' example."

Raziel nodded, but focused on the chessboard again for a thoughtful moment. Picking up one of Kain's pieces as he stood up, he made Kain's last turn for him.

Kain made a soft sound of disbelief when he realized that it was a winning move.

* * *

**Author's note: **

**This chapter has the biggest time jump of the story so far. Raziel seems to be getting a lot better, but he hasn't entirely let go of his deathwish. I had a lot of fun with this chapter, though I really struggled at first with writing young Kain. I wanted to make him clearly different from older Kain without their differences feeling forced. Hopefully I managed to pull it off so far. **

**And I hope you all enjoyed the comment about how Raziel adores puzzles. I always enjoy working in a reference to actual gameplay when I can.**


	6. Chapter 6

The night was cold. Chill jewels hung in the glossy sky and glimmered darkly down on him as if they knew his purpose in coming to this place. Stone crunched beneath his feet as he stepped onto the thick, eroded pillar of rock that thrust toward the remote night sky. Far below, the water shone a dull green as it swirled in its tempestuous current through the Lake of the Dead and into the vortex of the abyss. A crisp breeze snapped his hair away from his face as he approached the edge with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, his hands clenched at his sides as the breeze returned from the opposite direction and swept his clan banner across his waist.

"Raziel."

Hesitating a few paces from the edge, Raziel turned to look behind him. Kain stood at the edge of the bridge, his brows drawn together and his lips turned down into a frown; though Kain rarely looked pleased, Raziel didn't think he had ever seen such a mournful expression on his sire's face.

"Raziel. Come away from there." Holding out a hand, Kain gestured him back from the edge.

Thrown by the desperation in Kain's manner, Raziel asked, "Why are you afraid?"

A wave of pain contorted Kain's features briefly. "You shouldn't be here. Come back to the Sanctuary with me."

Raziel shook his head and took a step backward.

"Raziel." The urgency in Kain's voice froze Raziel in place. Approaching him with all the caution one would afford a skittish animal, Kain raised his hands disarmingly. "Come with me."

"No." Raziel smiled faintly as he took another step and felt the ragged edge of the precipice beneath his heel. "You have no reason to be afraid. I can fly, after all." Glancing back over his shoulder at the rushing water, his smile widened with the thrill of anticipation. "I just want to see what's down there."

"If you go down there, you know you cannot come back again." Kain was standing close enough now for Raziel to see the cold stars reflected in his eyes.

"Would that be so terrible?"

Kain grasped his arm just above the elbow, his grip forceful but tremulous. "Don't do this." The words were barely more than a grating whisper, but the anguish in his eyes did enough to explain their meaning.

Still smiling, Raziel brushed his claws lightly over Kain's cheek, as mesmerized as ever by the startling softness of that skin which had every appearance of being like rough leather. "I didn't think you'd miss me," he whispered.

Kain closed his eyes. "I miss you every time you're gone."

"No, you don't." Raziel laughed softly. "But that was a nice lie." Firmly unfolding Kain's hand from his arm and holding it between both of his own, he added, "This is what I want, Kain. Let me go."

He released Kain's hand and took a step into midair.

Eyes flying open, Kain lunged for him as he jumped. "No!" The expression on his face seemed familiar for some reason, though Raziel couldn't place where he had seen it before. When had anything truly horrified Kain?

Raziel plummeted down toward the violent embrace of the abyss with eager curiosity. His shattered wings never caught the wind, but as he fell, he felt a sense of peace wrap around him with a pale, blue light. Cool and comforting, the light held him close, and he fell into the chasm with the exhilaration of flying. He was free.

Sitting up abruptly with the harsh sound of his own gasp in his ears, Raziel gaped at his reflection in the mirror at the foot of his bed as if he were looking at a ghost. Combing a hand roughly through his disheveled hair, he tried to calm his racing pulse. Taking a deep breath, he crawled out of bed and grabbed a fresh shirt from the wardrobe. The sky outside was a warm, rosy gold and he leaned against the wall beside the window for a moment as he tried to find his center again.

He had been having the nightmares for weeks, but they had become more vivid after his accidental encounter with young Kain. Though he understood the root cause, he couldn't quite untangle the meaning of the details. The thought of leaping willingly into that thrice-damned abyss was nearly as absurd as the idea of Kain trying to prevent him from doing so, but it was the expression on Kain's face, the look of absolute horror as he watched him fall that lingered with Raziel when he woke. If he hadn't already known that the Lake of the Dead would look quite different in this era, he might have taken a trip there, but somehow he knew that the abyss itself was not the answer to his dilemma. Kain was.

* * *

Vorador froze a step into his personal library, his lips twisting with distaste as he noted the books lying askew on the desktop and scattered about the thick red carpet like flotsam set adrift in the wake of a shipwreck. His eyes narrowed when he caught sight of the lovely creature tucked into his favorite plush leather chair. Perched on the ottoman in front of the chair with his wings spread dangerously close to the fireplace, Janos was smiling wistfully, hands crossed atop a knee as he regarded Raziel with far too much affection for Vorador's liking.

Pausing at the corner of a bookcase, Vorador watched them from a pool of shadows thrown by the dying afternoon light. They were discussing some of the events in recent history, things that Kain had already informed Janos and Vorador had turned out differently than he remembered. Raziel drank in the information with intelligence burning in his eyes, avidly turning to the book on his lap when Janos referenced something within it and tracing slender fingertips over the aged pages with reverence.

Vorador was mildly relieved to see that the fickle fool was finally taking an interest in something other than himself, but he wasn't entirely comfortable with the intimate way in which the two were seated, Janos' hand occasionally brushing against Raziel's knee to get his attention and Raziel's body language all too open to the unspoken invitation. Though Janos was probably unaware of how his gestures could be interpreted, Vorador had no doubt that Raziel was responding eagerly to the cozy nature of their chat.

"With everything that's changed," Raziel said as he turned a page in the large tome, "I wonder if young Kain will still try to create his empire?" Peering up at Janos with a hopeful expression that made him look painfully young, he added, "Perhaps he will never find a reason to disturb the Sarafan tomb at all."

Janos tilted his head thoughtfully. "Hard to say."

"I suppose there's an easy way to find out," Raziel said with a wry smile.

"Time travel is dangerous at best," Janos reminded, his expression darkening with disapproval.

"And yet Kain leaps into timestreaming chambers on the slightest whim." Tucking an ebony strand behind one ear, Raziel slouched further back into Vorador's chair. "He has clearly failed to see the harm."

"Kain's reckless behavior is not an ideal model to follow," Janos said with cautious civility, too conscientious to overstep his bounds.

A smile tugged at Raziel's lips, but did not quite stick. "You don't have to tell me that."

"If I may ask," Janos said politely, "why are you so curious about young Kain?"

Raziel blinked at him in surprise. "I'm not. But I do wonder how things might go differently now."

Nodding in understanding, Janos concluded, "You are curious how your own future would have changed."

Smirking, Vorador shook his head in amazement; even when he was appearing to take interest in something outside of himself, Raziel's motivation was still solidly centered in selfish concerns. Though the judgment would have likely earned him a nasty scowl from the fledgling, Vorador couldn't help noting just how similar Raziel really was to Kain in some ways.

"It doesn't matter," Raziel replied finally, turning away from Janos' attentive expression. "The fact that I am here in this body assures that no other Raziel will ever have to suffer as I did. Other than my previous life as a bastard Sarafan," his eyes flickered sadly at Janos before he continued, "I am the only Raziel in all of history."

"Does that trouble you?" Janos leaned forward, his hand resting lightly atop Raziel's. Vorador shifted uncomfortably as he watched the gesture, seeing Raziel respond visibly to the gentle touch. "Does it make you sad to know that the Kain still bound to history will never meet you? That even if he does raise the other former Sarafan from their tombs, they will never know you?"

"Not sad exactly." Raziel tilted his head, considering the question. "Lonely, perhaps."

Janos nodded, patting Raziel's hand. "You and Kain are both set apart from the flow of history now. I can imagine something of how that must feel considering I have spent much of my life in isolation, but it is true that you are not entirely alone either. At least the two of you are together in your separation."

"Yes," Raziel agreed dryly. "What a comfort."

Smiling, Janos withdrew his hand. "Despite what you might think of him, I think that Kain's company generally does you good, Raziel. Sometimes the one we truly need is not the one we would expect." Shifting his gaze to the spot where Vorador was standing, Janos added, "Isn't that right, Vorador?"

Chuckling softly under his breath, Vorador stepped out of the shadows. Though he had not expected to be called out into the open, he shouldn't have been surprised that Janos had noticed him; Janos had always had an uncanny knack for being aware of his presence whenever he was near. Raziel, on the other hand, seemed rather startled by Vorador's appearance and shifted uncomfortably in Vorador's chair as if he knew that he was sitting a bit too close to Janos, a reaction which only further annoyed Vorador because it meant that Raziel's reactions to Janos were happening on a somewhat conscious level.

Finally responding to Janos' question, Vorador said rather bluntly, "Yes, and sometimes the one you think you need is already needed by someone else." Raziel seemed rather confused by the statement. Poor, obtuse fool.

"Vorador," Janos reprimanded with disapproval in his eyes.

Clearing his throat, Vorador stooped down to scoop a history off the carpet and fold it under his arm. "Was it necessary to empty half of the shelves just to find a book you liked?"

"I was going to put them back when I was done," Raziel said flippantly.

"That's what they all say," Vorador muttered as he collected another volume, this one chronicling various theories about the origin of the pillars.

"I will help you," Janos offered mildly, rising to his feet and gathering several books with easy grace.

"No." Raziel stood up and took the books from Janos with a resigned expression. "I'll clean up the mess." He rushed across the room to take the books from Vorador as well, eager to please now that it was clear that he had angered his host, though he still seemed oblivious to the actual reason for Vorador's displeasure.

"Be sure to put them back where they belong," Vorador lectured. "And I swear, if I find a single volume out of place—"

He stopped when he felt Janos' hand on his shoulder, saw dark lips curved with patient expectation as Janos silently communicated his opinion that Vorador had gone far enough.

"...then I will have to move it," Vorador muttered lamely and turned away with a scowl.

"I will be careful," Raziel replied with an obvious smile in his voice.

Vorador's anger might have urged him to do something unwise then if it hadn't been for the steady weight of Janos' hand. Raziel was very lucky to have Janos on his side.

* * *

"Get the hell out of my chair."

Kain looked up from the broadsheet he had picked on his last hunt. "Excuse me?"

Vorador's expression darkened. "That is my throne you're sitting on. Up!"

Blinking in confusion, Kain shrugged and rose to his feet, gesturing with mock elegance at the empty chair. He had only sat in the elaborately carved wooden throne because it felt appropriate on so many levels, but he might have known Vorador would object. The chair was placed rather deliberately in the center of the room, as if the sitting room were an audience chamber and Vorador the king of the realm, but Kain had not expected Vorador to take it quite so seriously.

Settling himself on the seat with a grumble, Vorador stated, "You have got to do something about that idiotic child of yours."

"What has Raziel done now?" Kain asked wearily, leaning back against a table as he lifted the broadsheet again.

"He's getting too close to Janos, that's what," Vorador snapped.

"Are you saying that you're jealous of a fledgling?"

Vorador glared at him severely enough that Kain actually shied away from his gaze. "You know as well as I do that despite his current physical state, he is no child. And he is old enough to know better."

"You were the one clamoring for his freedom in the first place," Kain pointed out.

"Only because his state was tormenting Janos so. It was always 'poor creature' this and 'tragic savior' that. I had had about enough of it. What harm could it do to bring him back, I thought? But then I met the poor sod and thought better of my decision."

Unable to stand by and listen to Raziel being abused by one who knew so little about him, Kain countered, "Raziel is an unfortunate victim of circumstance. He has endured far more than he deserved."

Vorador lowered his book and frowned up at Kain with pursed lips. "He's a whiny little twit who thinks he's the only one in the world who's ever suffered. His constant sulking and self-absorbed hand wringing are exhausting to watch."

Kain raised an eyebrow. While what Vorador said was undeniably true, he had always been rather fond of watching Raziel sputter about and unleash self-righteous tirades that served no real purpose. He had always found the mannerism to be endearing at best and entertaining at worst. Outrageous protestations were what made Raziel who he was, and though they might be troublesome at times, they were very much a part of his charm. Kain wasn't sure he would like a Raziel who wasn't so petulant. He would be rather boring.

"Savior my ass," Vorador continued as he looked back down at his book. "If he saved the world, then that really was a twist of fate. A damned bad joke, if you ask me. Simply whining about the way things are has never gotten me very far in life, but I suppose it must have worked for him since that seems to be all he's capable of and yet he has earned this title of 'savior.'"

Kain was barely containing the impulse to lunge at the older vampire and throttle him. As frustrating as Raziel's stubbornness could be, Kain still remembered with raw clarity exactly what Raziel done for him—the act in which he had fulfilled the prophecy—and he did not find the topic to be an appropriate subject for humor. "Say one more word," he warned with deathly quiet, "and I'll—"

"You'll what, Kain?" Vorador slapped his book shut. "Attack me? Even you aren't that stupid. Just get your damn, doe-eyed child away from Janos and either satisfy his needs yourself or find someone else who can. Otherwise I can't be responsible for what I might do."

"Stay away from Raziel," Kain ordered. "He is one of mine and I will defend him."

"Good. Then take responsibility for him and get him out of here before I do something we will both regret." Scowling, Vorador stalked out of the room and only paused on his way to the door to fling one more comment back at Kain. "And stay the hell away from my chair."

Fuming, Kain immediately went looking for his troublesome child, but it seemed that Raziel had already removed himself from the situation. According to Janos, Raziel was out hunting, and while Kain was encouraged that Raziel was continuing to look after his own health, he felt obligated to track him down and warn him of Vorador's ire before he did anything else to irritate their volatile host. Vorador would not continue to put up with them forever if they displeased him, and Kain did not relish the thought of seeking out a new sanctuary.

Kain had always had an innate connection to his children, and even when Raziel returned from the abyss Kain had always been able to sense him on some level. He followed that thread of awareness now to Nachtholm. Landing lightly on a rooftop, Kain transformed back into his true form and surveyed the town below. He hesitated to descend to street level, tempted to merely observe Raziel from a distance and watch him hunt while he had the chance; he couldn't remember the last time he had watched Raziel in action without being directly involved.

Amused that the foolish humans never bothered to look up as they passed by, Kain crouched down in the shadow of a chimney and watched Raziel approach from the opposite direction. Ducking behind a tavern with a sense of purpose, Raziel surveyed the dark street warily. Kain was confident of his own ability to remain unseen, though for a moment he suspected that Raziel had noticed him.

But Raziel leaned back against the wall with an anxious air, his arms crossed over his chest as he continued to survey the area. Several likely humans wandered down the nearby street, but Raziel did not react to their presence. In fact, he hardly seemed interested in hunting at all. Rather, he seemed to be waiting for something—or someone, perhaps.

Kain's eyes widened when he saw the figure slipping around the corner of the tavern, skin pale enough to glow in the darkness. The arrogant smirk was all too familiar, and Kain's claws dug into the roof tiles as he watched the figure gaze possessively at Raziel; he knew exactly what was promised in that dark look. Regardless, Raziel did not seem to be the least bit shocked by the newcomer's appearance, and it was fairly obvious that this was the person he had been waiting for.

"I'll be damned," Kain breathed as he watched the scene transfixed, unable to interfere even if he had known what to do. He couldn't decide whether to take the revelation as a compliment or an insult, but either way it was inexplicable. Suddenly all the subtle clues that Raziel had let slip over the last week—his restlessness and bouts of temper—coalesced in his mind, and he realized that this was the secret Raziel had been struggling to hide ever since his hunt in Uschtenheim. He couldn't fathom what Raziel was thinking or why he would do such a damned fool thing, but he also knew that he could not simply let this go. Too much was at stake.

**Author's Note: Sorry to leave you hanging. I'll try to get the next installment up soon! **

**This chapter was oddly Vorador-centric. The throne thing was sort of a random idea that popped in my head and had to be satisfied, but his possessiveness about Janos seems highly appropriate to me. While there is a certain kind of chemistry between Janos and Raziel, I think it's safe to take Vorador's impressions of their conversation with a grain of salt. He's totally the jealous type.**


	7. Chapter 7

"What is this place?" Raziel inquired, regarding the small cabin dubiously. Kain had led him the short distance to the cabin through the woods east of Nachtholm, and while the isolation made the possibility of their getting interrupted by vampire hunters less likely, Raziel wasn't sure he was comfortable with the seclusion.

Kain kicked open the front door and gestured Raziel in ahead of him. "If Vorador is still in such a snit, I thought you might appreciate the opportunity to avoid the mansion for a while."

"Is it yours?" Raziel stepped into the cabin, blinking fitfully into the dark interior.

"It is now, I suppose." Light blossomed as Kain lit a lamp cautiously, scowling at the flame.

Surveying the room, Raziel noted all of the recent signs of habitation; fresh fruit in the bowl on the table, flowers in the vase on the windowsill, an untouched mug of tea on the counter. The cabin was small but cozy, a quaint quilt tucked around a feather bed, homemade curtains hanging over the windows. He could smell mortal blood nearby and he wandered farther inside until he saw the two humans tied hand and foot in the corner of the room. They were unconscious, but very much alive; he could taste their pulse on his tongue and he took a deep breath to control the immediate hunger their presence awakened within him.

"You even provided dinner," Raziel murmured, unable to hide the sour undercurrent in his voice.

He could feel Kain standing behind him, could feel his breath as he asked, "Are you hungry?"

Raziel swallowed and took a step away. Kain was too close. "A little bit, but I can wait."

"Why wait?" Reaching for a carafe on the counter, Kain lifted it with a smirk. "I've already drained another. We can save those two for breakfast."

Amazed by his boldness, Raziel shook his head. "I never said I would be staying that long."

Kain turned back to him with two filled goblets, a dark smirk curving his lips as he regarded Raziel as if he could see right into his soul and was amused by what he found there. He offered one of the goblets to Raziel with an elegant gesture, arching a brow when Raziel hesitated. He waited patiently in that pose until Raziel finally drew a calming breath and reached for the cup, his fingers brushing against Kain's hand as they wrapped around the stem. Though Kain did not visibly react to the tremor in his hand, Raziel knew he had noticed.

Still smiling, Kain lifted his goblet in a toast. "To our future collaboration."

Raziel hesitated. "I haven't agreed to anything yet."

"Stubborn, aren't you?" Kain took a sip from his goblet. Nodding at one of the chairs by the fire, he said, "Sit. We have much to discuss."

Growing more uncomfortable with every moment, Raziel sat stiffly on the wooden chair, the goblet clutched in his hand and still filled nearly to the brim. He had been tense all week waiting for this encounter and trying to appear normal to his companions. Several times he had thought that he had given away too much or allowed his worry to show, but nothing had ever been said and he had managed to leave the mansion without raising anyone's suspicions. Still, his paranoia was nearly incapacitating at times, and he had been unable to shake the sensation that he was being watched the entire time he was waiting behind the tavern, though he had never been able to find any observers.

Kain lit the fire and stoked it with deliberate caution, finally sitting down when he had created a pleasant blaze, though he kept a wary distance from the flames. "Relax," he said with a soft laugh when he saw Raziel's rigid posture. "I assure you that intend you no harm."

"What _do_ you intend?" Raziel asked, staring into the fire.

Kain swirled the blood in his goblet gently with a wistful expression. "I have a proposal to make, but first I should give you a little background. Nosgoth encountered a crisis recently. You might not even be aware of it since you were only lately raised, but some years ago a terrible event occurred, and the guardians bound to the pillars—the anchors holding our very world in check—were corrupted. One of the circle had been murdered, and her death plunged her lover into a madness that quickly spread among the rest of the nine. The pillars began to decay along with their guardians' minds, and shortly after my rebirth as a vampire, I was set on a mission to destroy them. I was told that when all of the guardians had been eliminated, the pillars would be restored and new guardians would be chosen."

Raziel took a drink simply to keep himself from interrupting; he knew this story all too well—knew more of the truth behind it than Kain did—and he had a hard time listening to it as if he had never heard it before. "And?" he prompted when Kain paused, hoping to finish the narrative as quickly as possible.

"And I did as I was told," Kain continued with a world-weary tone. "I took up the burden and eliminated the guardians one by one—only to find at the last that I had been deceived. I too, was a guardian—had been from the beginning. And my death was also required in order to renew the pillars. Naturally, I refused. But through some stroke of fate, I came across that curious blade in my travels." He indicated the Reaver where it was propped up against the wall, metal glimmering dully in the firelight. "When the time came for me to make my choice, it healed me, and through me, the pillars."

Considering this insight, Raziel fought the temptation to laugh; after everything that had happened, his unknown presence within the Reaver had been the instrument of Kain's salvation. Raziel had saved Nosgoth and Kain both without either being aware of his sacrifice.

"Other guardians were chosen to replace those who had fallen, but I remain the scion of balance, the only guardian to survive the massacre." Kain shook his head, taking a deep drink from his glass and placing it down on a small table beside him. Leaning toward Raziel with an intent expression, he continued, "But that is not the only way in which I am alone. Among the circle, I am once again the only vampire, and the others fear me. I single-handedly restored Nosgoth, but all they can do is proclaim me an outcast." He sighed. "They are weak and small minded. I have no use for them."

Sensing where this was going, Raziel concluded, "You want to overthrow them."

Kain nodded, smiling faintly. "Humans are frail and short-lived. Wouldn't it be better to have immortal guardians safeguarding the pillars?"

Raziel shivered, looking into the fire as he swallowed another mouthful of blood. The power-hungry glint in Kain's eyes made him nervous.

"I'm sure you recognize the problem with my hypothesis, though. There are simply not enough capable vampires left in Nosgoth today to even fill the circle. Moebius, the timestreamer—one of the previous guardians—used me in an elaborate ploy to destroy all vampires. He failed in the end because I managed to arrive just in time to save Vorador, but he did succeed in nearly eradicating our race before I put his holy war to an end."

Smiling, Raziel realized that this was how his Kain had managed to save Vorador. He must have tampered with the timestreaming chamber in the past so that Moebius' plan would fail, allowing his younger self to arrive back in his own time period just in time to save the older vampire. Though the plan was not without its risks, it had clearly worked out well enough.

"We need to replenish our numbers," Kain was saying when he returned his attention to the conversation, "so that the next time the pillars are without their guardians, vampires will be chosen to fulfill that duty. And if any mortals are chosen when that day comes, I will make certain that they are turned from the light before they can do any more damage."

"What about the current guardians? Couldn't they be turned?"

Kain's eyes sparked with anger at that suggestion. "The current guardians are fools. They would be equally worthless as vampires. No, we must start over entirely."

_Not entirely,_ Raziel thought. _Kain will continue to serve as the guardian of balance, though his method for creating balance is to simply eliminate the other guardians until he comes up with a combination he likes. _Draining his glass, Raziel considered Kain's story thoughtfully and wondered how long he should pretend to be interested before he declined. "This rebellion you are proposing...you must realize that it will be a long process. You would have to raise hundreds of vampires before you could overpower the humans. There are simply too many of them."

"Yes," Kain agreed. "You understand exactly. That's why I need allies like you, vampires who understand that mortals were never meant to rule this land. They persecute us, and yet we are so much more than they could ever be. Once I found my new manner of life to be repugnant, but now I understand the power that has been bestowed on me, passed down from the ancient vampire race. Can you not feel it, Raziel? We are hardly less than gods, and one day we will train the human cattle to respect us again." Raziel barely suppressed a grimace at that statement; the phrasing was disturbingly similar to something Kain had said to him in the chronoplast, not to mention some of the rousing speeches Kain had given in the early days of his empire.

Regarding Raziel with a winning smile, Kain said, "But you are right. We will have a war ahead of us if we are to conquer this world and take it for our own. That's why we need an army. How would you like to be the first of my lieutenants, Raziel?"

Raziel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. While he had not been given a choice the first time around, he had never questioned his place at Kain's side until that place had been taken from him. Kain had never asked for his allegiance—had always assumed it would be given—and Raziel had been utterly loyal until his execution. Looking back now, he wondered why. What was it about Kain that had compelled Raziel to serve him so completely? He had questioned Kain, argued at length with him and challenged his authority outright on occasion, but he had always known that in the end he would be subservient to Kain's will if it came down to that. Kain had created him, and that knowledge earned Kain a measure of undisputed respect.

This Kain had not earned that respect. "While it is a tempting offer," Raziel said carefully, "I'm afraid I must refuse. I already have a master, and you are not him."

"A master," Kain echoed with a soft chuckle. "You are not a puppet, Raziel. You can choose whom you wish to serve."

Inclining his head, Raziel agreed, "Yes, I can choose. And I'm choosing not to serve you."

Kain did not seem to know how to deal with his rejection. Clenching his jaw, he looked back at the fire, and Raziel could feel his anger distinctly. "Why?" he asked finally, shifting in his chair to face Raziel, everything about his posture antagonistic. "Why do you refuse to join me?"

Wondering briefly if Kain had ever been told no before, Raziel searched for a response. "What difference does it make?"

"I want to know." Kain's eyes narrowed, and Raziel was troubled by the dark anger simmering within them.

Unfortunately, seeing that anger only provoked his own, and Raziel found himself slipping into old habits. "Fine," he said. "You claim to be the guardian of balance, orate at length about your various sacrifices and heroic acts on behalf of Nosgoth, and yet I see no altruism in your actions. The world has been restored at last, balance has been attained, but all you can think about is finding a way to earn a little bit of the credit you feel you rightfully deserve. This prattle about restoring vampires to their rightful place is simply a cause to rally your unwitting allies behind, a farce to mask your selfish desire to be king of the world."

Raziel could feel Kain's rage boiling over, but he couldn't stop. The words kept flowing off his tongue with the inevitable weight of complaints that had been repressed too long. Flinging up a hand to point at Kain, he continued, "You think of yourself as Nosgoth's unsung hero, and you want to be recognized for what you've done, but that's not how it works, Kain. Being a hero isn't about being chosen—it's about being willing to do what's right, especially when it's the last thing you want to do, when no one will praise you for it and no one will even know what you have lost along the way.

"You aren't a hero, Kain. You're a pawn, used by every player on the board, and pushed about until the game was over. And make no mistake, the game is over. You can engage in your trivial attempts at world domination, raise your little vampire army from the revered dead of the Sarafan crusades if you like and play at being god, but the fact remains that you are now and will always be a pretender. You saved the world because that was your destiny. Don't imagine it was because of your own ingenuity."

Lunging at him, Kain knocked him out of his chair and down to the floor, smacking him hard across the face. The blow stung sharply enough to wake Raziel from his ineluctable declamation. "What do you know of any of it?" Kain growled in his face. "A fledgling of two mere months... You are an arrogant child who knows nothing of the world or the sacrifices I have made for it."

"I know far more than I wish to know," Raziel murmured, closing his eyes and allowing his head to fall back against the floor.

"I should kill you," Kain breathed, his weight crushing down on top of Raziel though he was far leaner than the Kain that Raziel was accustomed to. "I should eliminate you before you have the chance to stand in my way."

Hope rose in Raziel's chest like a bubble floating to the surface of a deep pool, expectation choking his throat as the wish he had all but abandoned burned within him again. Opening his eyes tentatively, he glanced at the Reaver where it was still resting silently against the fireplace. "What are you waiting for?" he whispered.

"For you to change your mind."

"That's not going to happen."

For a long, painful moment, Raziel waited for Kain to act, but in the end, he only closed his eyes briefly in resignation. "I won't kill you."

Raziel gaped at him in dumbfounded amazement, unable to even formulate a response. Since when had Kain hesitated to kill anyone? He certainly hadn't hesitated to have Raziel thrown into the abyss.

Pulling back slightly and watching Raziel's expression, Kain traced a fingertip over Raziel's lips and along his jaw. His voice dropped into a seductive purr. "I would prefer not to destroy such a beautiful, clever creature without an irrefutable reason."

This was not the direction Raziel wanted the conversation to go. Squirming slightly to test Kain's strength, he hissed, "Must I give you one?"

Kain smirked, easily catching Raziel's wrists and pressing them down against the floor "I wish you wouldn't." Tilting his head with a contemplative expression, he murmured, "There's simply something about you. I feel as if I have met you before, though I know that's impossible if you truly are as young as you claim. You're an enigma, one which I feel compelled to unravel."

Looking again at the Reaver, Raziel wondered if it were possible that Kain recognized his spirit from when his soul had been bound within the blade. That would explain why Kain was so certain that he knew him though they had never met before. It might also explain why Kain was so reluctant to kill him; they had been unspoken allies for some time.

"You have such fire in your eyes," Kain observed as Raziel tried again to break free of Kain's grip and nearly succeeded by twisting out from beneath him. Shoving him back against the rough brick of the fireplace next to the Reaver, Kain tightened his hands on Raziel's wrists and added, "The kind of fire that would muster troops to your side. You truly would make an excellent patriot for my cause."

Raziel glared at him, but was running out of arguments; he had already laid most of his cards on the table with his explosive tirade, and if that wasn't enough to convince Kain that he wasn't worth the trouble, then he didn't know what was. What a stupid mistake it was to agree to meet Kain here. He should have known that it would only end in disaster.

"Why did you lie to me about your lineage?" Kain asked, surprising him with the question. "I know that you don't belong to Vorador. He doesn't like his fledglings as mouthy as you, and he would have forced your sharp tongue to submit one way or another long before now."

Glancing at the Reaver urgently, Raziel tried to think of a way to shift the situation back into more appealing territory, but Kain had noticed his distraction.

"You have an unhealthy fascination with my sword," Kain noted. "You've been stealing lusty glances at it ever since we met in that alley in Uschtenheim." Cocking his head, he added with a stilted grin, "I have to admit I'm a little jealous."

Raziel met his eyes, but refused to respond. Talking about the Reaver was far too dangerous a topic.

"What is it about the sword? Were you planning on taking it from me? Is that why you agreed to this meeting?"

Clenching his jaw tightly, Raziel remained silent.

"You are stubborn." Tightening his grip on Raziel's arms, Kain leaned in close, his lips nearly touching Raziel's. "But the sword does not belong to you and I have no intention of parting with it. Though I would much rather win you over and have you at my side, I will use it on you if you continue this impertinence."

Raziel found himself smiling—barely restraining a laugh. And then the laugh was slipping out and his sides were aching with his inability to hold it in. Kain's eyes widened in surprise and he pulled back a fraction, gaping at Raziel as if he thought him less than sane. And perhaps his sanity was slipping a bit. But it was simply too ludicrous to hear Kain tell him with all the possessiveness of a spoiled child that the Reaver did not belong to him and that he couldn't have it. He had lived inside of the blade for years, a silent passenger in the weapon slung across Kain's back and clutched his hand—and Kain had the gall to tell him that he had no right to the sword?

Trying to compose himself, Raziel looked up at Kain's baffled expression and nearly broke into another fit of giggles.

"Have you come unhinged?" Kain asked with wonder in his eyes.

"Maybe I have," Raziel managed to say when he had regained some control.

Kain studied him for a moment, one of his hands reaching up to cup Raziel's face, his thumb rubbing lightly over Raziel's cheek in a gesture that brought back bittersweet memories; the habitual gesture was one of the few things Kain had ever done to give him the impression there was something more than lust between them. Lost in the moment and swept up in emotions hundreds of years old, Raziel did not struggle when Kain leaned forward and kissed him.

This was the old pattern repeating itself; it always started with an incensed argument into which Raziel poured himself heart and soul, and was followed by Kain's swift move to take the advantage while Raziel was still drained by the dispute. Despite the violence of their arguments and the painful battles that had often accompanied them, Kain could be shockingly gentle when he chose to be, and it was that uncharacteristic gentleness that had always made Raziel weak to the assault.

Breaking the kiss, Kain trailed his lips along Raziel's jaw and down his neck, his hands on Raziel's hips and tugging him closer. Too overwhelmed to even react, Raziel gazed unseeing at the ceiling as Kain's mouth hovered menacingly over a vein, lips and tongue teasing at his throat without breaking the skin. If Kain bit down, he knew he was finished. He wouldn't be able to even summon the motivation to protest. Sharing blood between vampires could be a painfully intimate experience in this context, and Raziel didn't know what it would do to him at the moment.

The harsh knock on the door made Raziel's heart leap into his throat—somewhere just beneath Kain's tongue. Raziel watched as Kain pulled away enough to look sidelong at the door, brows furrowing when the wood shook with another pounding. Apparently deciding that he could risk turning his back on his conquest long enough to answer the door, Kain released him abruptly and crossed the room.

Too stunned to know what to do with the momentary freedom, Raziel watched in shock as the door opened on a brawny, menacing human wearing a scowl that seemed vaguely familiar to Raziel for no reason he could identify. Before Kain could even react, the human swung at his head and felled him with one brutal stroke.

Eyes wide, Raziel scrambled to his feet, gaping at the mortal as it lowered its mace and looked up from the insensate vampire with an expression in its eyes that chilled Raziel to the bone. Thin lips quirked with a small smile as it regarded Raziel before collapsing bonelessly to the ground, the mace landing on the floor beside it with a loud thud.

Suddenly, understanding blossomed in Raziel's mind and a growl of rage erupted from his lips. He had been right to be paranoid, it seemed.

* * *

**Author's Note: Another evil place to end it, I know. It was just the most natural chapter break considering the next one is quite long and there is no good place to break it. Anyway, I'm curious to find out what you think of young Kain now that we've seen a little more of him. I was forced to really decide on the differences between him and his older counterpart in this one. Some things haven't changed though (does anybody else adore the way Kain kicks open doors? I really enjoy that detail of the games).**

**Having Raziel unleash on young Kain was satisfying to me in the same way that having Vorador call Raziel a "whiny twit" in the last chapter was. I always enjoy giving characters a chance to vent their frustrations, and Raziel is especially eloquent when he does so—I just hope I managed to pull off his style.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note: This chapter picks up right where the last chapter left off.**

Kain managed to make it back to the house before Raziel—though only just. After dispatching the human by releasing it from his mind control, he had flown back to the mansion in a rush, grateful to find it empty with a hastily scrawled note from Vorador on a table in the entry. He found another note on Vorador's favorite chair in the library, though this one was a lot less cordial and threatened dire consequences if Kain chose to sit down, further demonstrating Vorador's rather unhealthy obsession with furniture.

Tearing the note in half and watching the fragments flutter down to the floor, Kain settled comfortably on the chair with a smile. He had barely picked up a book and opened it before he felt the reverberation of Raziel slamming the front door. He didn't care to speculate on how Raziel had managed to return so quickly, but he had to admit that his speed was impressive.

Feeling Raziel's wrath like a gust of heated air from a furnace, Kain stared at the book in his lap while Raziel stormed into the room. "Is something wrong?" he asked with utter serenity, glancing up at Raziel to judge whether or not he should start reaching for a weapon.

"How long were you watching?" Raziel demanded, eyes blazing as they stared him down.

"Watching?" Kain shifted in the chair. "I don't know what you're—"

Raziel stalked across the room and snatched the book from his lap. For a moment, Kain thought he was going to strike him with it. "Don't play games."

Unable to suppress the bitter amusement that tugged at his lips, Kain tilted his head and decided to let Raziel have his way for the moment. "If we're not playing games, then why don't you tell me what you were doing with him in the first place? Are you deliberately trying to sabotage everything we worked so hard to accomplish?"

Clenching his teeth, Raziel snapped, "You would dare to lecture me about duty and responsibility? I think I've earned a modicum of confidence on that count, don't you?"

"True. But that does not change the fact that you are undeniably mucking with the timeline. Is having one of me around simply not enough to satisfy you?" Raziel's eyes widened with rage, but Kain cut him off before he could say a word, rising to his feet and forcing Raziel to take a step backward. "There's no point in denying your intentions, Raziel, because even if you weren't planning on getting tangled up with him, it was quite obvious from a single glance that Kain knew exactly what he wanted from you."

Raziel was nearly shaking with emotion as he glared up at Kain and refused to retreat another step. "I'm so glad you can psychoanalyze yourself with such little effort, but some of us still make the mistake of affording you the chance to have honest intentions from time to time."

"I highly doubt that," Kain countered, feeling his own anger rising. "You are always the first one to suspect my motives. So, why were you there? Despite his obnoxious attitude, he is certainly easier on the eyes than I am—were you swayed by his charms? Or perhaps you were hoping for a little revenge? You know that the way to get to me is through my pride, and I'm just vain enough to actually see myself as a rival. Is that it?"

"Your ego truly is boundless," Raziel remarked with disgust. "I'm surprised the world can contain two of you without collapsing under the weight of your combined arrogance."

"Raziel," Kain said mildly, hoping to calm him enough to be able to reach him with reason, but Raziel looked away with a glowering frown. Cupping his cheek firmly, Kain tugged Raziel's face back toward him and brushed a claw lightly over his cheek as he tried to get his attention.

Raziel's eyes contained a curious mixture of anger, regret and horror before he slapped Kain's hand away in outrage. "I can hardly believe it. You actually are jealous, aren't you? Is that the real reason you interfered?"

Shaking his head, Kain pressed his knuckles against the bridge of his nose to quell his growing headache. "This is getting ridiculous."

Opening his eyes again, Kain was determined to start the conversation over. "Sit down," he ordered, pointing to the chair where he had been sitting. Raziel stiffened, but Kain took him forcibly by the shoulders before he could protest, and pushed him firmly down into the chair. Pulling another chair in front of Raziel, he sat down as well and took a deep breath. "Start from the beginning, and tell me what happened."

Reluctantly, Raziel settled back in his chair, and Kain could sense his anger cooling a few degrees. He seemed somewhat resigned to the situation, unable to find a way to argue with Kain's composed attitude. "I had a run-in with him in Uschtenheim last week," Raziel admitted grudgingly.

"The incident with the vampire hunters," Kain reasoned.

Raziel's eyes flicked toward him before looking away again. "He was annoyingly persistent. I told him that I was Vorador's, and he got it in his head that he should come by the mansion for a visit. I managed to put him off, but not without scheduling another meeting."

The explanation was so matter of fact that Kain knew Raziel was leaving out important details, but he supposed he shouldn't push his luck by forcing a more elaborate account. "And you didn't say anything because you didn't want to admit your carelessness."

"I didn't say anything because I knew you would jump to inappropriate conclusions," Raziel countered.

"Anything else? What did he want?"

Raziel smiled sweetly. "I thought you'd already read him like an open book."

"What did he_ say_ he wanted?" Kain revised, struggling to maintain his patience.

"He wants to overthrow the other guardians and replace them with vampires," Raziel said flippantly. "And he wants me for his very own first lieutenant. Big surprise there."

"I'll assume you refused."

Anger flashed in Raziel's eyes. "No. I signed up right on the spot, even spit polished his Reaver before you interrupted--which I'm sure you already know since you were keeping tabs on me like some sort of perverted voyeur!"

Having a hard time containing his exasperation, Kain growled, "I didn't see anything. I tracked you to the cabin and immediately went back into town to find a mortal to manipulate. That's all." Raziel considered his answer in tense silence. "_Did_ you refuse?" Kain asked finally, starting to doubt his own conclusion.

"Of course I refused! Swearing my undying loyalty to one of you is one too many. But he doesn't seem capable of understanding that no means no."

Sighing, Kain rested back in his chair. "What are we going to do about this abominable mess you've created?"

Raziel shrugged and looked away. "I don't know. Kill him?" His grin was a shade too crazed for Kain's liking. "That would be poetic justice, wouldn't it?"

Kain felt torn between the urge to throttle Raziel and the impossible desire to kiss him. He blamed the latter on his gut instinct that his younger self had recently done as much and he hated starting a competition from behind. Besides that, Raziel had a tendency to look infuriatingly good when he was being cocky.

"Can I take your silence for consent?" Raziel looked back at him with an arched brow.

"No. I'm ignoring you." Looking up at the ceiling pensively, Kain speculated, "Maybe I should send Vorador to talk with him. Although, he will be insufferable as soon as he knows that I am trying to get you out of a fix."

"I don't think young Kain believes that I'm one of Vorador's brood anyway."

Pursing his lips, Kain clasped his hands in front of him. "There's a reason for that, you know."

"Oh?"

"Vorador thinks I'm too lenient with you. He would have sacrificed your volatile spirit for obedience long ago."

"It's eerie how you two think alike," Raziel commented. "Your younger self said much the same thing when he called my bluff."

Chuckling darkly, Kain asked, "Really, Raziel, what did you expect? We are the same person, after all."

Raziel seemed uncomfortable with that reminder. Shifting in his chair, he looked away with a sigh, resting his head against the back of the chair and unwittingly exposing a length of pale neck marred by an uneven, purple ellipse that was fading, but not completely healed.

Kain felt a frown darken his features as he leaned forward to inspect the bruise more closely. "So," he murmured as he leaned even farther out of his chair, tentatively tracing a claw over the dark mark and watching Raziel flinch at the touch, "just how far did he get before I stopped him?"

Eyes darting back to Kain with a hint of panic, Raziel sucked in a breath, a blush rising to his cheeks like kindling erupting in a blaze. "Just what are you implying?" he hissed.

An irrational anger building inside of him, Kain slid his claw beneath the neckline of Raziel's shirt and pushed the fabric back to expose more skin. "I told you before. I could read his intentions clearly the moment he looked at you." Raziel's eyes widened and his muscles tensed beneath Kain's clinical touch as he made his inspection. Kain mourned the less concealing uniform that Raziel had worn centuries ago when he had been Kain's lieutenant. The clothing Vorador had provided left more to the imagination, and his imagination didn't need any help at the moment. "Tell me. How many marks did he leave on your skin?"

"Well, I don't know, Kain. But that's really none of your business, is it?" Raziel snarled. Pressing a hand on Kain's chest just above his death scar, Raziel shoved him backward with more force than Kain was prepared to counteract.

Startled by his vehemence, Kain allowed Raziel twist away from his touch and out of the chair. He didn't know why he was surprised by Raziel's reaction; with all of the pain that had been dealt between them—all of the anguish he had willingly put Raziel through—he should have seen this rejection coming. He had forfeited his claim on Raziel the moment he touched his ill-fated wings, and he had no right to touch him now or demand any sort of loyalty from him at all. His choice to give Raziel free will had liberated Raziel from his will as well.

Resigning himself to the consequences of his choices, he glanced at Raziel's back. Raziel had retreated a few steps away, his arms crossed tightly across his chest and his shoulders rising and falling with deliberate breaths that Kain knew he was using to calm himself. Raziel might have forgiven him on some level and even started to trust him again, but Kain should have never allowed himself to suppose that Raziel would forget what had happened or be willing to give him a second chance.

Kain shifted his focus back to the problem at hand, feeling more than a little bitterness toward his younger incarnation. Perhaps he should be approaching this problem from another angle. Rather than trying to talk sense into someone as stubborn as himself, he should be finding something that would keep young Kain occupied for a while. He seemed to have a rather poor opinion of the new guardians if he wanted to replace them, but perhaps he needed a reminder that he wasn't the only one who could have plans for betrayal. Knowing how vainglorious he had been at that age, Kain imagined that the other guardians didn't have a high opinion of him either. If he could enlighten the other guardians about Kain's impending treachery, then perhaps they would make a move of their own. He had no doubt that his younger self could handle them, but they might be enough to keep him busy for some time.

It was as good a tactic as any and he was eager to get started, but he didn't want to leave Raziel alone in the house in case young Kain showed up on the doorstep. Feeling the uncomfortable itch of Raziel's eyes on him, he shifted to meet his gaze with a neutral expression.

"What are you plotting?" Raziel asked, a frown in his eyes.

"I'm trying to find a solution to our little problem."

Raziel turned away again with a scowl. "I'll take care of it myself."

"I don't think so." Standing up and approaching Raziel, he said firmly, "You've already made enough of a mess. If you go near him again, there's no telling where this will lead. He will likely come looking for you regardless, but I shouldn't have to warn you to avoid him at all costs." Shaking his head, Kain added with a sour smile, "Of course, I shouldn't have had to warn you to stay away from him in the first place either."

"Is that the extent of your advice? That I should hide from him until he gives up? Somehow I don't think that will solve anything, especially since we both know that he isn't likely to give up easily."

"It isn't the solution," Kain agreed. "It's simply an attempt to prevent more problems from arising. I will take care of the solution personally."

Raziel's scowl shifted from anger to concern. "And how do you plan to do that?"

Sharing the details with Raziel at this point was only asking for an argument, and Kain was not sure he would be able to remain calm if this turned into a heated debate. As far as he was concerned, Raziel had given up his right to offer suggestions when he decided to make contact with young Kain on his own. Turning toward the door, Kain said, "Just stay away from him and everything will be fine."

Raziel caught his arm as he walked away. "Kain," he protested.

"Don't test my patience," Kain warned, yanking his arm from Raziel's grip. "I'm not in the mood to indulge your childish need to argue every decision I make. If I happen to need your assistance, I'll be sure to let you know. You created this mess and I intend to clean it up."

Flinching as if he had been slapped, Raziel snapped, "No, Kain. I didn't create this mess. _You_ did. I was merely walking down the street when you grabbed me and pressed the Reaver against my throat for simply walking too close." Raziel jabbed Kain in the chest and pushed him back a step with the force of his anger. "I was attempting to protect the precious timestream when I offered to meet you somewhere rather than allow you to show up here and create another fatal paradox. I listened to your pathetic sob story about how much you've sacrificed and how abysmally unfair your life has been, and when I had the gall to point out that your grand heroics were founded on your base obsession with revenge, you threatened to kill me."

Unsurprised by Raziel's predictably inconvenient habit of revealing the details of a situation only when they were no longer necessary, Kain narrowed his eyes. "Are you truly attempting to blame me for something that my younger self did? Don't be a fool, Raziel. I have no control over anything he says or does."

"He is you!" Raziel raged, fists clenched at his sides and shaking with anger. "Weren't you just reminding me of that fact? His egocentric attitude, his sins are yours. And that makes this your fault. I didn't make the first move. You did. I had no intention of even talking to you, but you cornered me. So, stop blaming me for this mess!"

Kain felt his control slipping quickly. "Is that so? It's not your fault that you were following him down the street closely enough that he could grab you before you could escape? It's not your fault that you went to see him again alone? The way I see it, you chose to be there and you chose to make yourself vulnerable. I have never been capable of impelling you to surrender that indomitable will of yours no matter how hard I try. When you surrender it, you choose to do so entirely on your own, Raziel."

"I didn't surrender anything."

"How did he get the upper hand, then?"

"How do you know that he did?"

Kain shook his head. "That's a rather suspicious bruise on your neck, Raziel." He reached out to touch it but Raziel skittered out of reach.

"Don't touch me," Raziel growled. "You lost that privilege a long time ago."

Turning away, Kain tried to rein in his anger. "If that's how you feel, then why don't you reconsider young Kain's offer?" he said with mock ambivalence when he found his breath. "Go, wreak havoc with the timeline, help him with his little war and have your fun tying him up in knots like you used to do to me. I didn't free you from the Reaver just to hold you hostage. You're free to make your own mistakes, undermine everything you sacrificed yourself for and risk the fate of Nosgoth if that's what you want. I'm sure I can't convince you to see reason if you've made up your mind. I wash my hands of you."

Kain very nearly failed to avoid the vase Raziel threw at him. Raising a brow at the broken porcelain at his feet, Kain wondered how severely Vorador would punish Raziel for the destruction. He wasn't in the mood to let Raziel's reckless temper slide, and he was agitated enough to want a fight as badly as Raziel seemed to be wanting one, but he also knew that fighting inside the house would have its consequences.

Raziel snatched a decorative pike from where it was mounted above the fireplace, and Kain decided that he wasn't going to have much luck in delaying this fight long enough for them to get somewhere with fewer breakable objects regardless. Kain ducked beneath the pike as Raziel swung it toward him, using a book as a shield when the tip got a little too close for comfort on a second swing. Catching the pole in midair, he leveraged his weight and managed to practically pick Raziel off his feet and trap him between the pike and a table.

Hissing in frustration, Raziel attempted to wrench the weapon out of his grip, but he made very little progress before Kain smacked him under the chin with his elbow and sent him reeling. Kain was not interested in going easy on Raziel at the moment, and he took advantage of Raziel's reaction to yank the pike out of his grip and land a series of blows across Raziel's exposed torso.

Finally breaking free, Raziel rolled away and swung a kick at his face that Kain was not able to entirely avoid. His ears ringing, Kain caught Raziel's leg before he could slip out of reach, swinging them both around and flinging Raziel back at the table hard enough to break it down the middle; the sound of the table cracking in half was vaguely satisfying, but Kain cringed inwardly at the reaction it would likely evoke from Vorador.

Scrambling back to his feet on the other side of the ruined table, Raziel glared up at him from behind strands of disheveled hair. He grabbed a heavy candlestick from a nearby shelf and raced toward Kain again without pausing to take a breath. Trying to block his progress with the pike, Kain made a brutal swipe across Raziel's midsection that sliced open his skin along with his shirt. Before he could do more damage though, Raziel trapped him between a bookcase and a window, using the unwieldy length of his weapon against him in the restricted space. The candlestick swung toward his head with an ominous whoosh of air and Kain ducked, but Raziel's quick backswing landed on the side of his skull with a sickening crack.

Kain was too stunned to react as Raziel shoved him back against a bookcase with enough force to knock books to the floor, and he realized too late that he had lost track of the pike. Raziel raised the candlestick again but Kain captured Raziel's wrist in one hand and his neck in the other and slammed him back against the wall, the candlestick flying out of Raziel's grip along the way and smashing through a window before landing benignly on the terrace outside.

Raziel kneed him in the thigh in his struggle to break free—dangerously close to more sensitive areas—and finally managed to slip out of his grip. Claws flying, Kain tried to catch him and felt warm blood spill over his hand as he made contact with Raziel's face, but Raziel slipped still out of reach. Shaking his head as if to clear it, Raziel stumbled a few steps away and wiped blood out of his eyes with one tattered sleeve; his shirt was torn in several places now and a nasty bruise was forming along his jaw. Though Kain had been determined not to hold back in this fight, his resolve wavered when he saw how fragile Raziel still was.

As if to argue his own strength, Raziel scooped up the pike from where it had fallen during their last scuffle and leveled it at Kain. Cornered, Kain didn't have enough room to maneuver out of the way completely when Raziel lunged and the pike struck a glancing blow across his shoulder as he turned. The sloppy evasion earned Kain the chance to catch Raziel off guard though, and he kicked back at Raziel's ribs as he turned and felt bones give under the pressure.

Raziel cried out in a ragged gasp. Before Kain could turn around to gloat about his victory, he was jerked backward, his hair nearly tearing from his scalp as Raziel caught his ponytail in a fist and pulled hard. They both stumbled into a bookcase and then down to the floor, struggling briefly before Kain managed to gain complete control of the situation, Raziel's wrists pressed to the floor and his body pinned beneath Kain's weight.

"That was a desperate move," Kain observed, regarding Raziel's bruised and bloody face with a frown. "I thought you had graduated from hair-pulling when you were only a few months old, but it seems that you're still not above using the technique—though it is normally the kind of tactic I would expect only a weak female to employ."

"It's a legitimate strategy. Your vanity regarding your hair is one of your weak points, and you know it." Raziel tried to squirm out from under him, but he went abruptly still with a wince of pain a moment later, a soft whine vibrating at the back of his throat.

"Careful." Kain smiled thinly. "You'll aggravate your rather substantial injuries."

Glaring up at him with embers of hate glowing in his eyes, Raziel hissed, "Save your false concern for someone who can't see through them."

"You asked for this, you know?" Kain said calmly, though his anger had not entirely cooled. "I was cautious with you before because I knew that your body was still too young to sustain much damage without a great deal of discomfort. But you have never been good at allowing me to be considerate of you, have you?"

Scowling wearily, Raziel rested his head back against the floor and closed his eyes with a sigh. "Maybe I would let you be 'considerate' if your kindness were ever genuine, but you only offer to be kind when doing so would be to your advantage."

"At least I'm honest."

"When the truth suits you."

The cuts on Raziel's face were still bleeding, and Kain was close enough to nearly taste the tantalizing aroma of fresh blood. He found it to be rather distracting. "You're not having a very good day, are you?" he observed with a dark chuckle.

Raziel was either unwilling to speak or too busy being miserable to think of a response.

"Well, it's not likely to improve any time soon," Kain continued, watching a drop of blood slide over pale skin in a crimson trail and drip to the floor. "Just imagine what Vorador's going to do when he gets back and sees what you've done to his library."

Squinting up at him, Raziel growled, "What I've done?"

"Yes. You see, I won't be here to take any of the blame. I have an irritating situation to ameliorate. But, I wouldn't worry if I were you. I'm sure Janos will stop Vorador from killing you." He smirked. "That is, if they happen to come home at the same time."

"You never change," Raziel murmured. Something about his tone of voice made Kain uneasy―Raziel no longer sounded angry, but resigned. Raziel drew a shallow breath and looked away, inadvertently turning his bloody cheek directly toward Kain.

Unable to fight the temptation any longer, Kain leaned forward and lapped gently at the wound, purring as the nostalgic flavor of Raziel's blood filled his mouth. The taste sent his mind back centuries to sensations and memories he had not allowed himself to recall since the day he had broken Raziel's wings, and a deeper hunger stirred inside of him. If he didn't get away from Raziel relatively soon, he was likely to do something he could potentially regret.

"Don't!" Raziel shoved weakly at his shoulders, but Kain held him easily in place.

"This is my right." Kain paused a fraction away from Raziel's skin, meeting his eyes with a breath's span between them. "To the victor go the spoils."

"Go plunder someone else! I am not a prize to be won―ah!" Kain dipped his tongue into one of the cuts and Raziel's attempts to escape became more violent.

Kain relented when Raziel broke a wrist free and reached for the pike again. They caught the weapon at the same moment, and it snapped in two as they fought for possession. Using the broken pieces of the pike, they sparred halfway across the room, but Raziel was in too much pain to put up much of a fight. Gasping spasmodically, Raziel used the broken pike to support himself as he crumpled to the floor.

"Why wait for Vorador to finish the job?" Raziel asked faintly, his head bowed and his shoulders trembling. "Finish me off yourself and be done with it."

The remnants of Kain's anger cooled abruptly in the face of Raziel's quiet demand, and he wondered suddenly if he had underestimated the gravity of this little game. "Raziel?"

"I've never been anything but trouble to you," Raziel said reasonably, still refusing to look up. "And that's not likely to change. I wouldn't blame you if you ended it."

Truly concerned, Kain approached Raziel with a mixture of caution and dread. He had never heard Raziel use that tone of voice before, and the raw chill of it bothered him in ways he couldn't even describe. Crouching down beside him, he placed his hand lightly on top of Raziel's head. "Don't be foolish," he murmured. "If I wanted you dead, I would never have brought you back."

Raziel made a soft sound that was simultaneously piteous and heartbreaking, and his balance wavered with a violent shudder. Catching him around the shoulders as he fell, Kain lowered him to the floor, brushing damp hair out of Raziel's face in time to see his eyes flutter shut. He had pushed Raziel too hard, he realized, but his pulse was still strong and he knew that Raziel would recover with a little rest―physically, at least.

Looking up when he heard the front door open, Kain recognized the voices echoing in the entry and sighed. He hesitated only a moment, leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss against Raziel's lips simply to put himself on even footing with his younger self. Then, deciding that Janos could watch over Raziel far better than he could, he teleported out of the library.

Janos noticed the scent of blood in the air the moment he stepped into the house and it awakened his hunger though he had recently drunk his fill. The smell itself did not immediately concern him, but it sparked a hint of panic when he saw the alarm in Vorador's reaction.

Features darkening the moment he caught a whiff of the scent, Vorador left a sentence hanging unfinished and immediately paced up the stairs and down the hall to investigate. Janos followed uncertainly, wondering what it was about the smell that might have alerted Vorador to danger. Regardless, he knew that Vorador's instincts were correct when he stepped into the library—or at least what was left of the library. Books were strewn over the floor as if tossed about in a cyclone, the table at the center of the room was split down the middle and the area rug was littered with bits of shattered porcelain and patches of blood.

At the center of the maelstrom, lying at an unnatural angle on the rug was Raziel, face bloody and clothes torn. Vorador let loose a vulgar string of crude language that lit a blush on Janos' cheeks, grumbling as he made his way across the battlefield to Raziel's unmoving body. Glaring down at him, Vorador muttered finally, "At least he couldn't have possibly done all of this to himself."

Janos didn't really see why that was reassuring in the least, but the statement seemed to indicate that Raziel was still alive. Picking his way across the room, Janos joined Vorador next to Raziel and knelt down beside the unconscious fledgling. Pressing a hand against Raziel's throat, he felt the slow, steady rhythm of his pulse and he sighed in relief.

"Raziel?" he murmured, smoothing damp hair away from Raziel's face.

Jerking awake with a painful gasp, Raziel squinted up at him. "Janos," he said hoarsely.

"You all right, you bloody fool?" Vorador demanded, attempting to be sympathetic in his own way.

Raziel grimaced and pushed himself up on his elbows. When it seemed that he wasn't going to accomplish the task, Janos slid an arm around his shoulders to provide support. "A few broken ribs...but they seem to be healing."

"I'm glad to hear that my library wasn't the only thing to have suffered."

"Vorador," Janos chided with a glare when he saw Raziel wince.

"I apologize for the damage," Raziel murmured with a faraway look in his eyes. "We got a little...carried away."

"We?" Vorador raised an eyebrow as if he merely wanted confirmation of the answer he already knew.

Janos didn't like the expression on Raziel's face; it was far too reminiscent of the dark mood that had hung over him in the first weeks after his rebirth. "Did Kain do this to you?" Janos asked directly when Raziel made no response.

Lips twisting sourly, Raziel replied, "I did it to myself. Kain...is Kain, that's all. I should never have expected him to be anything else."

"What kind of drivel are you babbling about now?" Vorador muttered.

"Nothing," Raziel said evenly, shaking his head. "Nothing at all."

"Where is Kain now?" Janos asked to distract himself from his growing concern.

"I don't know." Raziel shrugged, but grimaced in pain halfway through the gesture. "He's gone."

"And you don't know where he went?" Vorador seemed less than convinced.

Raziel scratched at the dried blood on his cheek. "No."

"He was probably running away. He knows better than to leave a mess like this for me to find."

"Raziel," Janos said gently. "What were you and Kain fighting about?"

Looking up at him with an anxious glint in his eyes, Raziel said with attempted calm, "I had an accidental encounter with the Kain from this era."

Vorador cursed and turned away, his anger evident in the angle of his shoulders and the jut of his jaw.

"He intends to undo any damage that has been done, though I don't know how he plans to accomplish that goal." Raziel sighed. "That's all I know."

Vorador shook his head. "All I have to say is that you're damn lucky Kain didn't just kill you."

Something about Raziel's expression—somewhere between wistful and wry—made Janos very uneasy. "I suppose," he said.

"Although, you might have been better off dead with the disaster you have to clean up here."

"Later," Janos said firmly, pulling Raziel's arm over his shoulders and helping him to his feet. "Raziel needs to recover first."

Vorador frowned fiercely. "Janos. Just look at my library."

"I know," Janos agreed with a mild smile. "I will help you put it in order."

"No. You are not cleaning up the mess he made."

"We'll see."

"Yes, we will."

Ignoring him, Janos helped Raziel limp toward the door, aware of every jolt of pain as Raziel's muscles tensed and the breath hissed out between his teeth. "Was Kain in this kind of shape as well when he left?" Janos asked as he nearly carried Raziel up the stairs.

"Hardly," Raziel managed in a soft gasp. "The only blood he had on him was mine."

The descriptions angered Janos and his grip tightened on Raziel's shoulder enough to cause a grimace before he took hold of his frustration. He had truly believed that Kain was the salve Raziel's wounded soul desperately needed, but he was beginning to doubt his understanding of their relationship. Whatever had happened between them, it was evident that Kain had managed to singlehandedly undo much of the healing Raziel had done since his release from the Reaver—both physically and mentally. The part that annoyed him the most was that he suspected Kain knew exactly what he had done, and that he might not have been fleeing Vorador's wrath at all with his quick escape, but avoiding Janos' rage instead; surely he knew how Janos would react to his heedless abuse of Raziel.

Raziel was in too much pain to notice his quiet brooding, and he simply stumbled wordlessly along until they reached the bedroom at the end of the hall. Helping him toward the bed, Janos stripped off the bloody remnants of Raziel's shirt and tucked him beneath the covers, cautious of the various wounds and bruises scarring Raziel's ivory skin. Raziel's eyes drifted shut as soon as he hit the pillow and Janos breathed a sigh of relief.

**Author's Note: Yes, Kain is worried about dealing with mom's wrath. ;) Janos seemed extra motherly in this last scene. And Raziel is clearly suffering a setback. This chapter was a bit of a rollercoaster for me because I kept trying to end it, but it just kept going. I feel fairly satisfied with the way it went in the end though. They really needed to have an all-out fight at some point. And Kain's jealousy adds an extra layer of fun. It's interesting though because I think we missed a lot of Raziel's reactions since the scene was from Kain's point of view. Kain thought it was the same kind of futile fight they always have, but I think Raziel was a little more invested in it than that. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: What happened to the last month? It seems like I just posted my last chapter a week ago, but time has been going very quickly as it has a tendency to do this time of year. But you shouldn't complain about the delay because I think this might be the longest chapter yet. ;)**

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"Have you seen Raziel?"

Vorador reluctantly tore his attention away from his book. "I've been trying rather hard to ignore him at every opportunity, so I couldn't really say."

Frowning, Janos wandered farther into the room, fingertips tracing lightly over the spines of books in a nearby bookcase. "I can't find him anywhere."

"Ah. I thought it was pleasantly quiet in the house this morning."

Pursing his lips and staring at the shelves of books without really looking at them, Janos crossed his arms over his chest. "I should go look for him."

"Why?" Vorador grumbled, tossing his book on a table. "He's old enough to know how to take care of himself and he doesn't need you tending to him every moment of the day. In fact, if he has left, that's probably exactly why. He was tired of being coddled."

Janos shook his head, worry shadowing his features. "I don't think so. But, you have touched on the very reason I'm concerned, Vorador. He may be capable of looking after himself, but I fear that he won't."

Vorador scrubbed at his face, his emotions torn between confusion and exasperation. "Janos..."

"I fear that Raziel is a danger to himself in his current state," Janos said gravely, wringing his hands. "And whatever is wrong with him, it seems that Kain is at the root of the problem."

"Which one?" Vorador asked wryly.

Wings twitching with annoyance, Janos gestured broadly at the library around them. "Kain beat him to within a thread of his life, Vorador. You saw for yourself the state Kain left him in before flitting off across Nosgoth to do god knows what."

Vorador shook his head and stood up. "Raziel is no saint—no more than Kain is a devil. And I can guarantee you that Kain would not have left if he thought Raziel's life was truly in danger."

"Do you think Kain had nothing to do with Raziel's current state of mind, then?" Janos raised an eyebrow.

Patting him fondly on the shoulder, Vorador smirked. "You have such a soft place in your heart for that little brat. Perhaps it is the heart in your chest that is your undoing on that score considering it was in Kain's body when he first raised Raziel."

"Perhaps," Janos said with a frown.

"Regardless, I would conjecture that Raziel's state at the end of that conflict had as much to do with his own fatalism as it did with Kain's cruelty. Raziel has not been quite right since we cut him loose from that sword, and while he has been doing a better job of acting lately, I think his morbid fascination with death runs more deeply than any of us can reach."

"Then, you see it as well," Janos sighed.

"I wasn't going to tell you this," Vorador said quietly, pressing his lips together as he leaned back against a bookcase, "but he tried to kill himself."

Janos' expression clenched with dismay. "What?"

"It was a few days after we brought him back, and I happened to walk in on him before he could finish the act. I managed to convince him to think better of it, but I don't imagine that his inclination toward suicide has disappeared entirely."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Janos asked, his brows furrowed and his expression pinched with hurt at Vorador's omission.

While causing Janos pain in any way was anathema to him, Vorador knew that he had been withholding the truth for Janos' own good in this case. Cocking his head, he countered, "Why do you think?"

Janos shook his head with an air of panic. "I have to find him."

"Find who?" They both turned at the sound of Kain's voice. He was standing halfway through the door to the terrace, poised between entering and leaving as if he expected his visit to be shortlived.

"Your fool child," Vorador snapped.

Kain sighed, and pressed his knuckles against a temple. "I had rather hoped that you two would be able to keep an eye on him while I was away."

"Oh, really?" His anger stirring, Vorador turned to face Kain. "Remind me exactly when your fledgling became our responsibility. I don't recall you asking that we keep an eye on him before you disappeared and left him half-broken in our laps. I also don't recall you apologizing for the mess you left behind, or the furniture you broke, or the bloodstains on the carpet, or—"

Janos stepped in front of him. He thought initially that he had stepped between them to prevent Vorador from lunging at Kain, but he recanted his conclusion when he saw the fury in Janos' posture. "I fear that he is in danger."

Kain's eyes narrowed and his grip tightened on the door. "How so?"

"If you weren't so concerned with the way his actions inconvenienced you, then perhaps you would have noticed the danger on your own," Janos spat, his wings flaring with his anger and forcing Vorador to leap out of the way to avoid them.

Releasing the door and shifting into a defensive stance, Kain said warily, "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Think beyond your own concerns for a moment, Kain. Try to see through his eyes."

"Attempting to see anything through Raziel's eyes is to tempt madness," Kain retorted. "His logic is far too convoluted for me to comprehend."

"And yet you claim to know him well." Janos' eyes lit with more passion than Vorador had seen on his usually docile features in centuries. "I thought your cruel treatment of him was a twisted form of love, but now I wonder about your real motivation. Do you tear him down merely to build yourself up? Do you even care for him at all, or was I mistaken about that as well?"

"How dare you ask me that question?" Kain demanded, his tone dark and dangerous.

"How could I not after everything you've done to him? You cast him away on a jealous whim, took advantage of his sacrifice and then consented to restore him only to mistreat him at every turn!"

Kain's jaw clenched and anger ignited in his eyes. "Don't imagine that you understand my reasons. You know nothing of them."

"Then try to justify yourself."

Watching as Janos stalked closer to Kain, Vorador realized that his library was likely to suffer another disaster before this conversation was over, but it might almost be worth the destruction just to watch Janos attempt to tear Kain's stubborn pride down to a more appropriate size. He didn't even attempt to interrupt or prevent the conflict he saw coming. Instead, he settled back against a bookcase to watch. It was rare that he had the opportunity to watch Janos in action and he intended to enjoy it.

* * *

Raziel had escaped the mansion at the first possible opportunity, choosing a destination that he hoped would be relatively isolated. Janos' suffocating worry and Vorador's obvious dearth of patience for unwelcome houseguests had combined to make the atmosphere in the house unbearably stifling. Raziel had spent several days since Kain's disappearance resting or hiding from the other occupants of the house, but he was unable to stand the silent hostility any longer. His body had recovered completely from his fight with Kain, but his spirits had not, and he desperately needed space.

While he had never entirely shaken his longing for the peace he had found within the Reaver, he had been starting to feel more attached to his body and his new life. But his confrontation with Kain had unraveled most of the progress he had made with a swiftness that made him doubt the reality of that progress entirely. Perhaps he had merely been trying to convince himself that he had improved for Janos' sake while ignoring his true feelings out of guilt. Regardless, quarreling with Kain had reminded him of all the ways in which he was weary of his life—all the reasons why it would have been easier for him and everyone else if they had simply left him alone.

Traveling to the only location he could think of that was likely to be deserted and not likely to be a place anyone would look for him, he made his way to the crumbling remains of the Sarafan stronghold. Very little of the structure was still standing, but he remembered enough of its layout to recognize the fragments of walls and columns for the rooms they had once been. He found the ruin to be ironically comforting, as close a place as he could find in this era to home.

Finding a seat on a block of stone next to the weatherworn statue that had once been a representation of him; he was surprised to find the marble sculpture to be relatively whole, though the nose and one of the arms had crumbled away long ago. The murals depicting the other Sarafan saints had not fared as well, scattered around the circular courtyard in chunks of painted stone. He found Rahab's eye staring at him from a pile of stone next to his feet, and a shock of red hair that he identified as Zephon's peeked over a slab of marble on his right.

His thoughts quickly turning dark as he soaked in the solitude, he wondered how long he would have to starve before his body returned to the corpse it should have been. How long could he hide before someone thought to look for him and coax him back into the land of the living? He could find a body of water in which to drown himself, but he was reluctant to commit suicide in that fashion after the suffering he had endured in the Lake of the Dead. He didn't want to risk a repetition of that horror, and being forced to live as a glorified collection of muscle and bone was worse than simply being forced to live. Fire wasn't likely to work either, and impaling himself would be difficult unless he found a cliff with suitably sharp rocks beneath it.

No, while starving himself would be a painfully slow process, it was still the more appealing option. He simply had to avoid everyone else until nature could run its course—an ironic thought since there was little natural about his vampiric unlife to begin with.

Closing his eyes, he listened to the distant echoes of rock falling and settled in to wait. Thunder rumbled in the distance and he welcomed the sound, knowing his death would come more quickly if he were exposed to rain. The wind picked up and buffeted his hair, but he had to wait a long time before he felt the first sting of rain against his skin. Another crack of thunder echoed across the nearby valley—closer this time—and Raziel smiled as the heavens opened and heavy raindrops spattered against the broken flagstones.

The storm was loud enough that he didn't hear the footsteps until they were nearly upon him. His eyes snapped open when he heard boots crunching against the gravel in a pounding rhythm before stopping short on the other side of the courtyard. He was not entirely surprised to find that the person interrupting his intended suicide was Kain, though he was startled to find a relatively young face staring back at him.

"Raziel?" Kain shouted over the rain, his features a ghastly shade of white as they lit brilliantly in a flash of lightning. "The storm is worsening. We need to find shelter quickly."

Raziel pushed strands of wet hair out of his face and looked up at the ruined husk of the Sarafan stronghold stretching fractured fingers toward the weeping sky above. "This is about as sheltered as it gets," he commented.

Kain shook his head and stalked toward Raziel, dragging him to his feet with a firm grip on his arm and pulling Raziel along behind him as he blindly made his way through the collapsing building. Dread gathered in Raziel's gut as he noticed what direction they were headed and realized suddenly where they could find decent shelter nearby.

Frustrated, Kain glared at the shattered walls around them as they came to the edge of the stronghold without finding a safe haven from the rain. Raziel was aching steadily now, his skin burnt raw from the rain, and he could see that Kain's skin was faring no better. While he had no concern for his own health at the moment, he didn't dare to speculate what kind of havoc he would wreak with Nosgoth's future if he allowed Kain to die here and now. Kain was shielding them as best as he could with magic, but he was bound to run out of energy eventually.

Resigning himself to the situation, Raziel tugged on Kain's arm and began leading the way to the nearby cliffs. Kain raised an eyebrow, but followed him as they skirted the cliffs and sheltered periodically beneath rocky overhangs to catch their breath. The storm confused Raziel's senses, but they eventually found his unlikely destination and the sanctuary it provided, though Raziel couldn't decide if the discovery were a blessing or a curse.

Irony choking his throat, Raziel helped Kain push the stone aside from the entrance and slipped into the stale interior of the mausoleum, the deathly quiet interrupted only by the echoes of the torrent falling outside. Raziel's eyes slowly adjusted to the dim lighting, and he leaned back against the wall with a sense of awful anticipation compressing his chest, the knowledge and significance of exactly where they were weighing on him painfully.

"What luck that I found you in that crumbling edifice," Kain said quietly, no longer needing to shout over the noise of the rain. His pale skin and hair was easy to find in the darkness, and his golden eyes nearly glowed as they studied Raziel from the other side of the room. "Though I have been across Nosgoth several times over, I have never noticed this place hidden in the cliffs." He paused, shifting his head as he considered something. "But if you knew about it, why were you sitting out in the rain?"

Raziel shook his head, shivering as damp air gusted inside. "I like thunderstorms," he replied blandly.

"Surely you realize the danger water poses to your health."

"Yes," Raziel agreed, rubbing at a patch of healing skin on his arm. "I know."

Kain scoffed. "Such an obvious lack of self-regard. You never cease to intrigue me."

Closing his eyes and turning away from Kain's probing gaze, Raziel sighed and slid down the wall to the floor.

"I knew I was bound to run into you sooner or later." Kain's boots scraped against the floor as he approached and sat down beside him. "I wasn't sure what had happened when I came to in that cabin and found you gone. That human took me entirely by surprise, but I suspect that his appearance was not entirely unwelcome to you. Did you summon him, perhaps?"

Feeling drained by his body's efforts to heal itself, Raziel murmured, "If I were to summon a creature to my aid, I would not choose a human—or at least not one such as that." Kain's body heat was a pleasant warmth at Raziel's side, and he found himself leaning instinctively toward it.

"Even so, the timing was quite extraordinary."

"And the human knew exactly how to strike to catch you off guard," Raziel agreed wryly.

"Yes." Kain regarded him inquisitively for several moments before continuing, "Regardless, the human was dead when I awoke and you were nowhere to be seen. I found it odd that you failed to feed from him if you did manage to defeat him, though."

"How else could I have escaped if I had not defeated him?"

"Teleportation, perhaps? Though you are rather young to have developed such a skill."

Raziel sighed. "Your theories are fascinating, but you're over thinking the situation. The human collapsed after attacking you and I know nothing more about that than you do. I was not hungry, so I left without feeding."

"Your explanation seems convenient, but not terribly likely."

"I have nothing more to give you," Raziel said shortly, pulling his knees up to this chest with a huff of frustration. He could feel Kain watching him closely, but he refused to meet his gaze, feeling more and more irritated with his foolish decision to lead Kain to safety. Though he wanted to believe he had thought things through sufficiently, Raziel couldn't seem remember why he had thought that it would be a good idea to bring him to the one place he had been hoping this Kain would not find. If there had been any hope of Kain allowing his brothers to remain untouched, he had diminished it greatly by leading him directly to their final resting place.

"Why did you leave?" Kain asked quietly, brushing damp hair away from Raziel's face so that he could see his expression. "Before that human interrupted us, I thought we were finally managing to get along quite well." His fingers followed the line of Raziel's jaw to the nape of his neck, caressing the sensitive skin ever so lightly and sending a shiver racing down Raziel's spine.

Shifting his shoulders in discomfort, Raziel tried to breathe past the catch in his throat. "Stop," he ordered, glaring at Kain.

"Why? I can tell you want this." Kain leaned toward him, but Raziel scooted out of reach before his lips could make contact.

"You're mistaken. I let you kiss me before because I thought I could take advantage of your distraction. As it turned out, I didn't need to. That's all."

Still sitting at an angle and precariously off balance, Kain considered Raziel's explanation with a frown, but did not endeavor to argue the point any further. Raziel couldn't quite interpret Kain's motivation in attempting to seduce him; as far as he could tell, seducing him would have no practical benefits other than a superficial sense of power or the immediacy of pleasure. And while this Kain was young and perhaps impulsive, the Kain he knew had always been extraordinarily good at delaying gratification. He had always made decisions based on a greater purpose and avoided unnecessary actions whenever possible, but as far as Raziel could tell, this Kain's interest in him was not only gratuitous but also did nothing to get him closer to his end goals.

Eager to change the topic before things became even more awkward, Raziel said, "You interrogated me about my reasons for being out in the rain, but you still haven't shared your own excuse."

"I was on my way to the pillars when I got caught by the storm," Kain answered with a wry smile, finally settling back against the wall again. "I've heard rumors lately that the other guardians have turned against me. I hadn't expected them to have the nerve to challenge me, but it seems that I underestimated their gall. Somehow they have guessed at my intentions, and they plan to murder me before I can destroy them."

Raziel's stomach churned with unease. "How did they figure out what you were planning?" he asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer.

"I don't know, but I intend to find out. They are so obtuse that I have a hard time believing they came to the conclusion on their own, but I can't imagine how else they would have learned of my plans...can you?"

The hard edge of danger in Kain's voice instantly raised Raziel's blood pressure. He could almost guarantee that the elder Kain had played a hand in this development, but if this Kain suspected him of treason, he couldn't exactly cast the blame on Kain's future self. Considering his options, Raziel wondered if having Kain believe that he had betrayed him would be such a terrible thing. Kain did not suffer traitors to live, and the possibility of dying by the Reaver was not exactly a deterrent for him.

"You think I told them."

"Did you?"

Raziel smiled slowly, his decision made. "It wasn't difficult to convince them. All it took was the merest suggestion of your intentions to start them strategizing your downfall."

"I don't understand you." Kain sighed. "I offered you the world and you refused. If you didn't want it, why are you trying to take it away from me now?"

"Because you don't deserve it."

Shaking his head, Kain said, "I barely know you, but this...this feels personal. Why is that?"

Raziel swallowed his response, not trusting himself to supply a half truth that wouldn't eventually lead to the whole truth before Kain was done with him.

"Is this about revenge? Who are you really? Are you the next of kin of one of the guardians I murdered? A relation of someone I maimed in my quest to restore Nosgoth?"

"It's nothing like that..."

"Then, what is it?"

"You...remind me of someone I know," Raziel bit out finally.

"Your teacher? The one you spoke of before? Or perhaps this mystery sire you are so reluctant to reveal?"

A small smile curved Raziel's lips. "He is both."

Kain nodded. "I wondered." Pursing his lips, he continued, "But whoever he is, he must have been cruel to you to have evoked so much hatred in such a short time."

"I'm older than you think."

"Of course you are."

"Why do you want a reason?" Raziel looked at Kain wearily. "What difference does it make why I betrayed you? You can't possibly still want me as your lieutenant now that you know I can't be trusted. So why haven't you killed me yet? From what I know of your history, mercy is not one of your trademarks."

Kain raised an eyebrow. "Because you want to die. Why would I give you something you want?"

Too shocked to speak, Raziel knew that he should be grateful that, of all the dangerous things Kain could have inferred from his deceptions, he had ultimately recognized something so unimportant.

"Am I wrong?"

Struggling to swallow past the thickness in his throat, Raziel shook his head numbly.

"As I said before," Kain said carefully, leaning toward Raziel but not closing the distance between them entirely, "you intrigue me."

"Why? Because you can't possibly imagine what it feels like to wish for death?"

"That is one of the reasons," Kain admitted with a soft laugh, "but it is not the only one. I told you that I feel a connection to you that I cannot explain. I don't understand it, but I feel as if I know you, as if I owe you a debt for something I cannot remember."

Reminded suddenly of his forgotten suspicion that Kain might have recognized his spirit from its presence within the Reaver, Raziel found himself immediately looking at the hilt of the blade where it rested against the wall.

Kain followed his gaze with a frown. "You..."

"I know the sword," Raziel murmured, deciding that this admission was better than most of the truths he could reveal to Kain in order to appease him. Sharing his connection to the Reaver in a limited context also provided a possible opportunity. "I know the sword," he repeated more firmly, "intimately."

Kain waited silently for him to continue, his expression intent on Raziel's every word as he continued, "You said that the sword healed you—removed the madness Nupraptor had passed along to you with your birth—and that it healed the pillars. It was different at that time, wasn't it? More powerful...infused with energy."

"It was," Kain agreed. "But that aura of energy faded after the pillars were restored—not immediately, but some time after. I sensed the change when it happened. How did you know about that?"

Raziel hesitated, doubting the wisdom of his decision at the final moment, but deciding to proceed anyway. "I was inside the sword. My soul...was bound within it. When the sword changed...that was when I escaped. So, I did not lie to you when I said that I am barely more than two months raised. I have been free from the sword for that much time, but I have been alive—or at least aware—for much longer."

Stunned by the revelation, Kain shook his head. "Given a hundred years to think of an explanation, I don't think I could have ever come up with that. And yet, it makes a certain sort of sense."

"I belong inside the Reaver," Raziel said with resolve. "And you are the only person who has a chance of returning me."

"That's why you wanted me to kill you," Kain said in comprehension.

"Yes." Biting his lower lip, Raziel gazed into Kain's eyes imploringly. "It would be to your advantage as well. The blade is more powerful when it is fueled by a soul. You were right before. I would be a potent weapon to have at your side—though not in the way you had imagined."

"You make an interesting proposition." Lifting the Reaver, Kain studied the blade thoughtfully. "But I wonder...what made you change your mind?'

"Change my mind?" Raziel repeated in confusion.

"Yes. You escaped from the blade. Why do you want to go back now?"

"I...didn't really ask for freedom," Raziel replied reluctantly. "My sire...he summoned me back."

"He must have missed you," Kain concluded.

Raziel shook his head. "I don't know why he did it. Out of guilt perhaps. He was partially to blame for me ending up inside the Reaver in the first place. I believe he thought he was making amends."

"Putting you back inside the sword would make him my enemy, wouldn't it?" Kain asked with a stilted smile.

"Perhaps, but you're safe from him. He wouldn't lay a finger on you." Seeing the surprise on Kain's face, he quickly added, "He is vulnerable to the Soul Reaver and too attached to his own life to put it at risk by rescuing me again."

"I don't know," Kain said, lips tugging downward in a frown. "Something about this feels wrong...like it would be a mistake."

"That is a wise conclusion."

Breath hissing out between his teeth, Raziel's gaze snapped to the entrance of the crypt and the familiar silhouette outlined against a flash of lightning. He had to bite his tongue to prevent the immediate reaction that threatened to fly from his lips.

Taking a step inside the chamber, the figure tilted his head at Raziel. "What an interesting choice of locale, Raziel," he observed with obvious amusement. "Your ability to undermine yourself at every turn is truly astounding."

"You must be Raziel's sire," Kain surmised, rising to his feet with the Reaver balanced easily in his hand. "He has some fascinating things to say about you."

"I have no doubt."

Before things could progress any further, Raziel stood up swiftly and stepped between them. "What are you doing?" he hissed at the figure still obscured against the brilliance of intermittent lightning. "You know you shouldn't be here!"

"And neither should you." Taking a step closer, he grasped Raziel's arm just above the elbow and yanked him closer, his grip fierce enough to make Raziel grimace. "I'm here to save you from yourself," he murmured. Then, raising his voice, he said to his younger self, "Take a good look around, Kain. I think you'll make some interesting discoveries in this tomb. I had hoped that you wouldn't have a reason to ever miss Raziel, though I realize that is likely inevitable now. The fact remains that you can't have him."

Raziel struggled to break free, but Kain caught him around the waist when he tried to twist out of reach and pinned him back against his body. While Raziel could do little else but watch because of the strength of Kain's grip, the angle afforded him a good view of young Kain's reaction. He seemed too stunned to move, and Raziel suspected from the expression on his face that he was experiencing the dizzying temporal shifts associated with an impending paradox. Since Raziel and the elder Kain were both free from the timestream, they could no longer feel the danger of the moment, but that did not make it any less real, a fact which Raziel could clearly see reflected in Kain's eyes.

"I know that saying you can't have something is only likely to make you more obsessed with obtaining it," Kain continued despite his younger self's obvious distraction, "but I think you'll find that you have more than enough options before you to fill the void. As for the Reaver, it will never again be what it once was. Even if you attempt to trap Raziel within it, the sword is no longer able to contain him. I have made certain of that."

Raziel wondered how much of that statement was for his benefit, and whether it held any truth or was said merely for effect. He was inclined to doubt it because he couldn't imagine how Kain could have accomplished such a feat—or why he would bother to do so.

"How did you know my name?" Young Kain managed to say finally, overcoming his dismay and sense of dislocation long enough to ask the question.

Raziel was pressed so closely against Kain that he could feel his ironic chuckle before he heard it. "You have far more important things to worry about at the moment. Do you know where we are—the significance of this place?"

"Should I?"

"You are standing in the tomb of the Sarafan saints. Take a look at the grave behind you."

Still too shell-shocked to protest, Kain obeyed silently and gasped when a flash of lightning illuminated the name carved into the wall. Raziel watched his reaction helplessly, grateful for the woozy sense of dislocation as the elder Kain teleported them out of the tomb.

* * *

The storm showed no sign of abating, and Kain wished that he had had a better recollection of the nearest cave's location so that they could have avoided their unpleasant jaunt through the rain-slicked wilderness entirely. Raziel was flushed with burns by the time he found the cave he was looking for and tossed him at the base of the Ancients' Fountain.

"Drink," Kain ordered, indicating the fountain. "It will speed your recovery."

Trying to catch his breath past wracking coughs, Raziel glared up at him and leaned back against the fountain, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly. Kain was tempted to grab him by the scruff of the neck and dunk his head into the pool until he was forced to drink, but he still had just enough patience left to restrain himself.

The fountain emitted enough of a dull glow to illuminate the chamber to some degreee without the need for the occasional flashes of light from the storm outside, and Kain could clearly see Raziel's expression shift as he studied him."You look terrible," Raziel said finally with disinterested disdain, seemingly noticing for the first time that Kain was covered in cuts and bruises. He seemed reluctant to ask how Kain had managed to end up in such a state, which was good since Kain had no desire to explain what had happened either. Kain imagined the wounds were just punishment for his ever having the gall to wonder what Janos would be like when truly angered; Janos had earned his title justly as the greatest vampire that had ever existed, and Kain would never again underestimate his battle prowess because of his serene nature.

Taking a deep breath, Kain leaned back against the wall behind him gingerly, cautious of the healing gash across his shoulder. Now that they were alone, he found that he didn't know what to say. Rage tightened his chest painfully, and he feared that if he began speaking he would only end up yelling needlessly at Raziel—needlessly, because Raziel never listened when he yelled.

"Before you ask," Raziel said when he failed to speak, "I was trying to avoid him. He happened across me by pure coincidence."

"I don't care, Raziel."

Caught off guard by the blunt response, Raziel shifted uncomfortably against the fountain and looked away. "How did you find me this time?"

"I always know how to find you."

Making a soft noise of frustration, Raziel asked, "Why were you looking?"

"I don't care for this fatalistic streak you've developed," Kain said coldly, knowing and not caring that his statement was not exactly an answer. "First Vorador's claim that you tried to commit suicide and now this little episode. I thought your life meant something to you when you abandoned it to join with the Reaver. Was I wrong?"

Raziel shook his head, smiling sadly. "I was wondering when Vorador would tell you about that. Frankly, I am surprised he didn't tell you sooner. Maybe he knew that telling you was ultimately worthless. You don't care that I want to die. You only care that you didn't know about it—that you were out of the loop. Sorry for not keeping you up to date on my level of interest in living, Kain, but if you don't bother to notice it on your own then you've rather missed the point."

Raziel's biting sarcasm was painfully effective, and Kain found himself momentarily bereft of a response.

"I don't expect you to understand, regardless," Raziel added with a scowl. "I imagine that 'suicide' isn't in the vocabulary of someone who refused his own death even when the fate of the world was at stake."

"You know there was more to that decision than petty self preservation," Kain reminded him. "And you couldn't be more wrong about me. Despite what you might think, I know what it's like to consider death as a worthy alternative to the endless suffering of living."

That got Raziel's attention, though his expression was wary.

"I waited hundreds of years for your return, Raziel, with nothing to rely on but a transient hope that you would indeed come back as I had foreseen. Those were long, arduous years, filled with boredom and solitude, and the grief of watching everything I had created fall apart and decay. That was not the first time I had encountered despair, but it was the first time I wondered if I was capable of enduring it."

"What a tragedy," Raziel retorted, jumping to his feet. "While you were languishing in the horrors of ennui, I was burning alive at the pit of the hell to which you had condemned me."

Regarding him blandly, Kain snapped, "I thought your ire on that particular discretion had cooled, Raziel. It seems that you can still manage to rouse the interest to be indignant about it when doing so is convenient."

Raziel scoffed and turned away. "You just stole from me the best hope I've had for peace in months. I'm not in the mood to be forgiving."

Unable to restrain his temper any longer, Kain snarled, "If death is what you truly desire, I won't deny you. Ask me, and I will deliver it."

Raziel laughed—a broken sort of laugh that made Kain's chest ache where his heart should have been. His expression twisting with bitterness, Raziel visibly weighed his sincerity before saying, "If I'd thought you would be so accommodating, I would have asked you before."

"I believe you did," Kain noted wryly, suddenly considering the way their last fight had ended in a new light. "And I misunderstood you."

"Yes," Raziel agreed. "You mistakenly assumed that my plea had something to do with you. It didn't."

Kain's mind was racing, trying to find a way out of the corner he was quickly realizing he had talked himself into, but he had no idea how to undo the words he had said to make a point but now understood were an offer.

As if sensing his desperation, Raziel took a step toward him and lifted a hand to Kain's shoulder in what appeared to be a comforting gesture. "That was your mistake from the beginning. Assuming." His grip tightened painfully on Kain's wounded shoulder. "You assumed I wanted to be free. You assumed I would want to come back. But I have no interest in your charity—or in living simply to appease your guilt over the life you took from me."

Raziel looked away, his hand falling to his side. "I made an effort to adjust. I really did. I tried to forget the blissful oblivion I had found within the Reaver, but I couldn't. I can't. It was always my fate to end up there, and I was never meant to leave."

"I changed your fate once," Kain murmured.

"That was different. I wanted to be saved then."

Kain felt his face contort with pain and he knew that he was giving away far more than he intended. He could not lose Raziel in this manner; casting him away for a greater cause had been bearable only because he had always known that someday he would see him again. But this was finite. There would be no return from this outcome if he gave Raziel the death he desired.

Overcome with emotion and regret, Kain gambled with the last card he could play, leaning forward and claiming Raziel's lips before his troublesome child could protest. Raziel was too shocked to react, and Kain took advantage of Raziel's malleable impassivity to demonstrate his feelings without speaking them. He barely enjoyed the kiss—it was too bittersweet and fraught with sorrow—and he pulled back abruptly before he could be tempted to take things further than was wise.

Swallowing his passion with some difficulty, Kain held Raziel's uncertain gaze urgently. "I need you," he whispered, hating the words the moment they left his lips, but knowing they were the only hope he had left of changing Raziel's mind.

Raziel's mouth opened and closed silently, and Kain paused to appreciate how rare an occasion it was to find him speechless. But at the moment, he needed Raziel to speak. He needed an answer. Raziel's contrary nature was predictable only in its unpredictability; when pushed one direction, he was bound to go in the opposite. But he could not tell what direction Raziel was leaning at the moment, or whether his admission would come across as an appeal or a demand.

"You don't need me," Raziel protested faintly. "Not anymore."

"Yes. I do," Kain retorted, pulling Raziel into a desperate embrace and comforted by the fact that Raziel did not struggle. On the contrary, he melted against him. "I was so angry when you gave yourself up to that sword," Kain murmured into Raziel's hair, feeling as if he were laying himself bare, exposing all of his closely guarded weaknesses in one fell swoop. "I was furious that you had not given me the chance to save you again, but I chose to respect your sacrifice at the time because I knew my work was not done and your sacrifice had provided the means I needed to finish it. I had always hoped that someday I would get the chance to make it up to you. But this...losing you now...would be intolerable."

Slowly releasing him and taking a step back, Kain tried to gather the fragments of his pride. "I know that this isn't about me, and that the decision is still yours to make. But you deserve to know the truth. That's the least I can do for you after everything I've put you through."

Kain took a deep breath and turned away, noticing that the downpour outside had subsided at last into a gentle drizzle. "All I ask is that you take time to reconsider your decision. If you have not changed your mind by tomorrow, I will fulfill my vow and end your life. I will do whatever I can to make it as painless as possible."

Deciding that he had done as much as he could, Kain left Raziel alone with his thoughts and walked out into the night without looking back.

* * *

**Author's note: This chapter gave me some difficulty because I knew where I wanted it to go, but I was having a hard time making it believable. Hopefully I succeeded. Having Kain show emotion at all can be tricky, but I think that he was just desperate enough to convince himself that he had no choice. And it's pretty fun to see Raziel's flabbergasted reaction. **

**I did have fun writing the part with young Kain though. And how ironic that he resisted Raziel as well even though he had little reason not to kill him. And I enjoy the idea of Janos beating the crap out of elder Kain far more than I should (almost as much as Vorador).  
**

**Also, I wanted to apologize for my delay in responding to many of your reviews. This is the first opportunity I've had in several weeks to get caught up on internet-related activities so I'm terribly behind. I'll try to be better about responding this time.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. I have had more technical difficulties in the last couple of months... But luckily I didn't lose my work completely along the way. Things heat up a bit in this chapter. I think we probably have one more chapter left in the story (maybe two). I might eventually extend this story farther, but I have other writing projects underway and I don't want to leave this one hanging. Hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

Shivering in the cold of the cave, Raziel pulled his knees up to his chest and curled into a ball for warmth. He had already spent the entirety of a day wrestling with his choice—unable to rest and unwilling to feed—and he knew that he could only wait so long before Kain came looking for him. Kain had thrown down the gauntlet, and Raziel couldn't hide from the consequences of his actions any longer—or hope for an easy, quiet death—and that unwelcome dose of reality had severely limited his options.

His instincts wanted to believe Kain's sentimental admission, but the logical part of his mind—the part that had not allowed the tortured expression in Kain's eyes to sway his opinion—warned that Kain had been manipulating him since the day he was turned and would say or do almost anything to get what he wanted. But that was where the theory fell apart, because he couldn't imagine what Kain could possibly have to gain from revealing such a weakness.

Raziel had recently been reminded of Kain's usual technique through his younger incarnation, and he knew that this was not how Kain usually operated. Young Kain had kissed him with passion that was hard to ignore, used his charms and his body alike to seduce him—and had gotten farther using those familiar methods than Raziel cared to admit. But this was different. Raziel couldn't remember Kain ever kissing him like that before—with such raw need and undisguised affection—and if it was a ruse, Raziel was having a hard time seeing through it.

While the gesture had clearly exposed Kain's vulnerabilities, it had made Raziel feel nearly as fragile. His memories of how things had once been between them were already near the surface after his interactions with young Kain—the delicious tension of every fight, the anticipation of what would follow. But even with the reminder of their tempestuous past, he had managed to bury his feelings under a layer of indifference, too uninterested in carnal needs to pay heed to his innate inclinations. Being touched by young Kain had been like reliving a distant memory. It had lacked the immediacy required to truly catch his attention, and he had thought that he was beyond the reach of such desires.

That undeniable thread of tension between them had existed as a subtle undercurrent to every moment they had ever spent in each other's company, after all—even when he had been little more than a wraith—and he had long ago learned to ignore it when necessary. The fact that there had been no outlet for the tug of that insidious desire after his unsuccessful execution had only turned the emotion into another justification for his anger. He had chosen to overlook it entirely after his rebirth because he had not intended to be bound to his body long enough to explore the option. But now that his secret wish for death had been revealed and damn near accepted—Kain had offered to end Raziel's suffering himself, after all—he found himself caught up in desires that were fully rooted in the physical realm.

Perhaps that was Kain's strategy, to guide his reactions and hope for just such a result, but that was obscenely self-assured even for him. And Kain had not looked the least bit assured before he left. Regardless, Raziel knew he didn't have much hope of outwitting Kain on something like this, and that was the most infuriating thing of all. He could lose a battle to Kain and see it coming every step of the way, but knowing what was coming had never really improved his odds of winning. Kain was just too good at turning the tables on him.

Deciding that he had delayed the inevitable long enough, Raziel made the journey back to the mansion, pleased to find it peacefully silent when he slipped through the front door and up the stairs. He found Kain in the first place he looked, but he hesitated with his hand on the bedroom door, frowning at the silhouette standing regally on the balcony. His emotions were so muddled that he no longer knew what he was feeling, weariness and melancholy tangled inside of him alongside a restless urge that he hadn't felt in centuries. Even looking at Kain now inspired his rebellious body to betray him, his stomach clenching and his heart thudding in his chest with anticipation.

Kain glanced back over his shoulder when he heard Raziel enter the room, silken ponytail swaying against thick, corded muscle as he turned. His clan banner was tossed over a chair in the corner; Raziel couldn't remember the last time he had seen Kain remove it, and he considered the significance of that gesture briefly, but was unable to come up with a logical explanation.

His voice soft as if he were reluctant to break the quiet of the house, Kain noted, "It is nearly dawn. I was beginning to think you might not return at all—that you had decided to ignore my offer and chosen to take matters into your own hands."

Raziel stepped out onto the balcony, momentarily struck by the beauty of the night sky. The vivid, effervescent fabric of the heavens reminded him painfully of the dreams that had been plaguing him recently, and it took him a moment to calm his pulse as the images rushed over him. "That would have made things easier on you," he said finally almost as an afterthought.

"No." Kain shook his head wryly. "Not at all."

Closing his eyes to block the starry sky from view, Raziel turned his back on the vista entirely and leaned back against the railing, crossing his arms over his chest. He could feel Kain watching him and he held his breath, the air between them electrified and alive with possibilities.

"You have made your decision?"

Raziel nodded.

"I see." Kain's tone left no question of how he had interpreted that response, though the genuine ruefulness in his voice added to Raziel's doubts. Resting his elbows on the railing and leaning forward, he asked casually, "I've been reminiscing while I waited. Do you remember when Turel challenged you to a duel?"

Raziel glanced at Kain with a frown. "Which time?"

"The last one. He was always challenging you over some damn fool thing."

"He claimed that I stole his prey," Raziel said impatiently, wondering exactly where Kain was going with this, "and you took his side, as I recall."

A smile tugged at Kain's lips. "I only took his side because I knew that would infuriate you, and I wanted to see you fight. Turel always had an unhealthy obsession with his chosen prey—would stalk them for days before finishing the hunt. He needed to be put in his place, and if you hadn't done it then, I would have had to demonstrate his foolishness some other time."

Sarcasm dripping from his words, Raziel asked, "Is this little recollection of how you manipulated me into unknowingly doing your bidding supposed to make me sentimental?"

"You let your guard down with Turel," Kain said as if Raziel had not spoken. "I know you did it on purpose. You wanted my attention. But the move backfired and almost lost you the fight. You were so furious with yourself for the mistake that you nearly killed Turel before I could intervene."

"Yes. He never forgave me for the insult," Raziel said bitterly. "I'm sure he relished every moment of my execution."

Kain paused at the reminder, his expression darkening briefly before he continued, "You were so upset after the duel that it took me half the night to get you calmed down. I think that I had bruises during most of the following day for my trouble…and some rather suggestive scratches on my back."

Raziel immediately tensed, flashes of half-buried memories flickering behind his eyes. He suddenly understood the purpose of this trip down memory lane. His memories of that night were incredibly vivid—they had replayed in his mind dozens of times over the years. It had been the last time they had touched, and remained the last gentle memory he had of Kain. "I don't want to talk about this," Raziel said abruptly, his voice weak as he turned away.

He felt Kain's knuckles brush against his back, lightly following his spine from the nape of his neck down past his shoulder blades. The feather-light touch jolted through him like lightning and he grit his teeth to hold back a gasp, wishing that he had more control over his reactions.

"What will you do when I'm gone?" Raziel asked, eager to distract Kain before things progressed any further.

Kain's hand paused at the small of his back.

When he remained silent, Raziel continued sardonically, "You claimed that you needed me. If that is true, how will you possibly survive in my absence?"

"I don't know," Kain replied with a sigh, sounding genuinely surprised by the question. "To be brutally honest, I have very little purpose in my life anymore. I have nothing left to accomplish, everything I ever wanted to do has been done, and I have already lived more life than most in this world ever experience. I suppose you could say that I don't have much left to live for."

Startled by the supposedly candid response, Raziel shook his head in disgust. "Don't even try to convince me that you're considering suicide now."

"Suicide isn't a very palatable option for me after everything I've gone through preserve my own life, but yes. I am questioning the value of my continued existence."

The idea troubled Raziel more than he wanted to admit. Turning to pin Kain with a glare, he accused, "You are trying to make me feel guilty. It won't work."

"Raziel," Kain chided with a sad smile. "What would be the point of that? You have already proven on multiple occasions how little regard you have for my life. I know my sins, and I'm not foolish enough to look for sympathy from you. But the fact remains that I have outlived my usefulness. My presence in this world is rather redundant at this point."

"My existence outside of the Reaver is equally as redundant."

"Perhaps. But they're both a matter of perspective—that's the point I'm trying to make. Our existence is undeniably far less important to Nosgoth now than it once was. We've both been carved out of the natural course of history and tossed aside like flotsam on a river; it's disconcerting and demoralizing to no longer have any impact on the timestream after being so integral to correcting its path. I understand how that feels, Raziel. Inside the Reaver you were fulfilling a purpose, but that does not make you necessarily useless outside of it. We have lost our justification for living, but that does not mean we couldn't find a new reason to live. It only means that we haven't tried."

Fighting a smile, Raziel said, "You've been planning that little speech since the moment you left me alone in the cave, haven't you?"

Kain shrugged. "I have to be on my toes with you, and it always helps to come to a debate prepared."

"I didn't think this was a debate," Raziel said coldly. "You claimed that you would honor my decision, no matter what it was."

"And I will. I only want to ensure that you are absolutely certain of your reasons before you commit yourself to an unalterable outcome."

"What will it take to convince you that I have fully considered my decision? I've spent more than a day doing nothing but contemplating it. I feel certain that I've exhausted all the options."

A weary smile flashed across Kain's features. "No second thoughts, then?"

"None."

Kain nodded in acquiescence, though Raziel could see hints of emotion flickering beneath his detached expression. "Very well." Leaping up onto the railing in a liquid smooth motion, Kain reached a hand down to him.

Raziel stared at it for a moment in stunned silence. "What are you doing?"

"Follow me and find out."

Reluctantly taking Kain's hand, Raziel allowed himself to be pulled up onto the railing, a little dizzy with the height as he gazed down at the courtyard several stories below, the reflecting pool beneath them collecting starlight and bouncing it back in flickering ripples.

Gesturing at the pool, Kain said, "It's not the painless death I promised you, but it's the easiest way I can think of for us to both die at the same moment."

Nausea unsettled Raziel's stomach as he looked down at their proposed death, utterly unprepared for the idea of his choice determining both of their fates. Shaking his head anxiously and looking up at Kain, Raziel was uncomfortably conscious of the warmth of Kain's hand still wrapped around his own. "You don't really want this."

Kain laughed, that rich, arrogant chuckle that annoyed and exhilarated Raziel in equal measure. "Of course not. I would much rather that you had changed your mind, but if you are intent on dying, then I have no real choice. I have no desire to deal with the repercussions of losing you permanently. This is...easier."

"You're serious," Raziel observed in uneasy comprehension.

"Gravely," Kain agreed.

Kain was simply doing what he always did, Raziel realized. He was making a gamble, hoping that Raziel would change his mind before it was too late but willing to commit to the consequences if he didn't. Kain must have been desperate in order to use his own life as a gambling chip, but he had gambled as much before and won. Nevertheless, Raziel wasn't quite ready to reveal all of his cards. "I want you to live," he bit out haltingly.

"Why?" Kain asked, his voice ever so calm and reasonable, as if they were not standing at the edge, their lives teetering in the balance. "So that you'll have someone to miss you when you're gone?"

"That's not why." Raziel glared at him out of the corner of his eye.

Kain nodded in understanding. "It's a frustrating feeling, isn't it? Wanting someone to live, but knowing there is nothing you can do to keep them alive if they don't wish it?" Kain shook his head. "But I'm tired, Raziel. I have been playing this game even longer than you have, and I am weary of it. If I don't have you around to entertain me, I think I'd lose what's left of my sanity."

The wistful expression on his worn features and the way his hand tightened around Raziel's as he spoke combined to finally convince Raziel of his sincerity. Sighing, Raziel carefully leveraged his weight and tugged on Kain's hand. He hated to live down to Kain's expectations, but his decision had already been made regardless, and he only wanted Kain's death on his shoulders if he had specifically sought it out.

Kain blinked at him in surprise, but allowed Raziel to pull him back down to the balcony.

"You assumed again," Raziel explained with a sour smile. "You asked me if I had decided, but you never asked me what my decision was."

Brows furrowing in confusion, Kain studied him silently. "You're never that easy to convince," he murmured, his eyes wary.

"When you showed up in that tomb, you made things complicated. And the more complicated they became the more I realized that I had been refusing to see the whole picture from the beginning. It had always been more complex than I wanted to admit. On some level I knew all along that my choice would impact others, but I refused to see the truth because I wanted to be selfish. I didn't want to do the right thing." Taking a deep breath, he added as a caution, "I'm not saying that I'm over it or that I'm happy to be alive...but I'm willing to try again."

The unmitigated relief evident on Kain's face made Raziel feel slightly ashamed. Whatever his faults, Kain honestly did care for him, and that reassurance made Raziel weak inside. He had spent so many years hating Kain, and years before that doubting his intentions. While he had no way of knowing how deeply Kain's feelings had ran then, it was obvious that Kain was terribly attached to him now—perhaps because he was tired of constantly losing him. Raziel's sympathy on that count felt a trifle thin considering Kain had chosen to throw him away at least once, but he also understood now that Kain had felt compelled to make that choice based on necessity, not personal inclination.

Taking a step forward, Kain cupped Raziel's face in his hands and pressed a kiss against his forehead, a surprisingly paternal gesture. Raziel stood awkwardly still as Kain's lips traveled over his brow to press another kiss against his temple, then against his cheekbone, each kiss a bit more intimate than the last. He knew where the next kiss was going and he pressed his palm against Kain's chest to push him back a step before he got there.

"I'm giving you a second chance," Raziel said solemnly, needing to make a point before he lost his opportunity. "Take care that you don't squander it."

A small smile curved Kain's lips and he raised his palms in a gesture of innocence as he took a step away and gave Raziel more space. "The next move is yours, Raziel."

Raziel honestly hadn't expected Kain to give up that easily. He was simultaneously encouraged and disappointed by Kain's restraint. To keep his disappointment from winning out and tempting him into doing something stupidly impulsive, Raziel wandered back into the bedroom and away from Kain, sighing deeply and scrubbing his palms against his face in inexpressible weariness.

He could feel Kain studying him closely. "You look tired, Raziel," he observed with a lilt of light sarcasm. "This last week must have been exhausting for you between covertly colluding with my younger self and fighting your urge for suicide. You should get some rest before you collapse. Feel free to use my bed, if you want."

Raising an eyebrow, Raziel considered which inflammatory statement to attack first. "I thought the next move was mine," he said cuttingly.

"This isn't a move," Kain protested, settling down in a chair near the bed. "You can have the bed entirely to yourself."

Raziel glanced at the inviting bed and then back at Kain. "You don't trust me, do you? Even though I said I've changed my mind, you're still worried I will try to throw myself out a window or jump in a lake when you're not looking."

"Let's just say that you have not yet proven your sincerity to me. I won't touch you if you don't wish it, but I want to be close by in case you change your mind again. Whether you sleep here or in your own room, I intend to keep watch."

Scowling, Raziel shook his head and wondered half-seriously whether it was too late to change his mind. "I can't sleep when someone's watching me."

"You never minded before."

Raziel outwardly hated and secretly loved the seductive little smirk that twisted Kain's lips. "Bastard. I never dreamed you were capable of being overprotective," he muttered.

Kain merely continued to smirk.

Knowing that he had no choice in the matter and feeling fatigued enough from his recent sleepless nights that the bed was too much of a temptation to refuse, Raziel sighed. "Fine."

Slipping beneath the thick crimson duvet, he settled down into the feather mattress and looked up at the ceiling, noting with a small smile that it was covered in mirrors and absolutely true to Vorador's tawdry aesthetic. His reflection smiled back at him pathetically from the ceiling, haggard and vulnerable in far too many obvious ways. Closing his eyes quickly, he rolled on his side and away from Kain, burying his face in the pillow. He immediately regretted the action when he inhaled a lungful of air that instantly sent him back hundreds of years. It had been a very long time since he had slept in a bed so infused with Kain's distinctive scent.

Though he found the scent distracting, he was too exhausted to fight sleep for long and soon found himself drifting pleasantly in a comforting, mindless haze.

* * *

Kain had never been very in tune with his own emotions. In fact, he was in the habit of suppressing most of them completely. Anger, frustration and hatred—they were all a good way to get yourself killed. He had felt such things, certainly, but he had learned to bury them beneath the sobering influence of logic and reason. Sentiment was even more dangerous because it made you weak to things that were beyond your control.

Love…he had never even considered. But he had fallen victim to it anyway. Janos had seen something in him that he hadn't recognized in himself. He thought about Janos' unstoppable wrath and his own disgust for Janos' lack of control over his emotions, and realized that Janos had been far stronger in his weakness than Kain had been sheltered within his impenetrable walls of indifference. Janos was a lot like Raziel in that way—stronger with his emotions than without them.

Watching Raziel sleep, Kain remembered how lonely he had been without him. He had survived—he always survived—but he had been unhappy. Happiness was another emotion he had learned to live without, but now that he remembered what it felt like, he was inclined to cling to the feeling. He didn't know if he could hold on to Raziel or give him a reason to live, but he knew that he must try. They had both lost so much over the years, and Kain was done with losing. Sacrifice was fine if the world was at stake, but he would not lose Raziel to a damn sword ever again—even if it was a blade as magnificent as the Reaver.

Raziel moaned softly in his sleep and rolled on his side, his features contorted with pain. Concerned, Kain leaned forward in his chair and waited, hoping that the dream would pass and Raziel would sink back into a deeper sleep. The crease between Raziel's brows faded slowly and Kain had to clench his hands together in his lap to keep from brushing the stray strand of ebony hair out of his face.

Sometimes he forgot how beautiful Raziel was. He had always been drawn to beauty, and he had no doubt that his connection to Raziel had started out that way—purely physical, a matter of desire and lust and loneliness. But he had discovered beautiful things before and tossed them aside without a second thought. He had only truly understood that Raziel's beauty was more than skin deep when Raziel had returned from the abyss, broken and torn, and Kain had found himself to be every bit as attached to him as he had been when Raziel was whole.

It seemed as if they had spent several lifetimes apart, and yet he had always felt an innate bond with Raziel that he had never felt with any of his other children—or anyone else at all. As Balance guardian, he craved equilibrium more than anything else, and Raziel was his opposite and equal, his counterbalance, and the only thing that had kept him relatively sane for many long years. He had only understood just how cruel he had been to Raziel when the madness had been cleansed from his mind at last, and that revelation had made him maudlin with regret. He was grateful that Raziel had been imprisoned within the Reaver at the time, or he might have done something very out of character.

Shifting his head against the pillow, Raziel moaned again—this time in a very different tone, a tone that went straight to Kain's groin. Barely controlling himself, Kain watched Raziel's expression change as he unwittingly exposed his long, pale neck to the moonlight. Swallowing his desire, Kain looked away and tried to think about something, anything but the quiet sounds Raziel was making in his sleep. He had made a promise that he intended to keep, and taking advantage of Raziel while he was sleeping would only undermine what little trust he had gained.

He officially surrendered when he heard his own name escape Raziel's lips in a breathy gasp, deciding that he needed to wake Raziel before he lost control completely. He had barely made contact with his shoulder before Raziel turned, pulling Kain's arm with him and pinning it against the bed. Stretched out awkwardly over him, Kain cursed under his breath, knowing that if Raziel woke now he would immediately assume that Kain had overstepped his bounds.

He tried gingerly to free his hand, but Raziel unknowingly clutched at it, forcing Kain to either continue half-crouching uncomfortably over the bed until Raziel released his hand, risk waking him up despite the suggestive position or lay down on the edge of the bed and hope that he would have a chance to return to the chair eventually without Raziel noticing. He knew that the latter option was not only the most dangerous if Raziel woke up, but also the most likely to wake him unintentionally. Still, the idea was undeniably appealing and his self-discipline was already worn too thin for him to resist.

Moving incrementally, he cautiously lay down on top of the covers behind Raziel, his arm wrapped around Raziel's waist and his hand cradled against Raziel's chest. He held his breath as he settled onto the mattress and listened to Raziel's steady breathing, lulled into a drowsy half-sleep by the rhythm of the slow breaths. Finally relaxing a fraction, he smiled against the back of Raziel's head, more at peace than he could remember feeling in a very long time.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Romance full speed ahead!  
**

* * *

Raziel was standing on that familiar shelf of rock above the abyss, shivering as he crossed the bridge with chill wind rushing past his ears in a deafening roar. Pushing his hair out of his face, Raziel squinted at the figure standing near the edge of the precipice outline highlighted by the sickly green of the abyss.

"Kain!"

Shifting to look at him, Kain smiled. "Join me, Raziel," he said, holding out a hand. His voice was quiet but somehow managed to carry easily over the wind.

Suddenly anxious, Raziel stopped mid-stride and stared at the hand as if he expected it to strike him.

"Why are you afraid?" Kain asked in a reassuring tone.

"You shouldn't be here," Raziel said, but the wind swallowed his words and Kain shook his head uncomprehending. Shouting at the top of his lungs, Raziel repeated his statement and Kain smiled as if amused.

"Why not? I was here with you before."

Approaching the edge and peering over it with a sense of dread, Raziel frowned. "You know that the only thing you'll find down there is death," he cried, gazing meaningfully at Kain to communicate his point.

Kain glanced down at the abyss casually. "The only way to find out is to jump." Grasping Raziel's arm fondly, he said, "This time we will go together."

"No." Panicked by the suggestion, Raziel shook his head emphatically and brushed off Kain's touch. "No! I always do this alone. You can't come with me."

Cupping Raziel's face between his hands, Kain murmured, "I won't lose you again." His eyes pulled at Raziel with inexorable magnetism, drawing him into their golden depths and swallowing him whole. Emotion washed over Raziel, and he could not fight the pull, feeling as if he were already falling though his feet had not left the ground. Then he realized he wasn't falling at all, but flying.

Raziel's eyes opened to the faint glow of dawn pressing against the windows. He felt warm and comfortable and he had no desire to move, though he didn't think he would be able to fall asleep again now that he was awake. Snuggling back into the warm cocoon of blankets, he pressed against the body behind him before he realized that he was not alone in the bed. His breath caught in his lungs and he froze for a moment in panic, looking down at the hand he had unconsciously been clutching against his chest. Turning his head carefully, he shifted halfway onto his back and looked over his shoulder, expecting to see a satisfied smirk on Kain's face, but Kain's eyes were closed, his arrogant features slack with sleep and exceedingly peaceful.

Raziel took the opportunity to scrutinize him, content with their proximity for the first time in longer than he could remember. They had been chasing after each other for what felt like years, and it was oddly pleasant to know that Kain was right next to him now, within reach, even if he had broken his promise to allow Raziel the next move. Raziel was surprised to find he didn't mind that Kain had taken the advantage the moment he let his guard down—he had expected as much, after all, and it was a comfort when someone acted as you expected them to act, even if it could be wearying at times.

Knowing that he was courting disaster and would probably regret crossing this boundary, Raziel reached out and lightly brushed his fingertips over Kain's cheekbone. Kain's stillness was unnatural, the hush of the undead, and now even his blood was still in his veins, no longer propelled by a heart. A frown pulled at Raziel's lips as he considered the emptiness within Kain's chest that remained despite the attempt he had made heal him before surrendering to fate; he did not understand how Kain continued to live without the essential organ, but the purified Soul Reaver must have found some way to keep him going in its absence.

"By all accounts, you should be dead," he whispered faintly, his fingertips still following the worn lines of Kain's face. "What is it that keeps you alive?"

"Stubbornness," Kain murmured against his fingers, golden eyes opening a crack.

Wondering just how long Kain had been feigning sleep, Raziel tried to hide his surprise behind a mask of impersonal curiosity. "That vexing trait hasn't hurt your longevity, certainly, but the fact remains that you have no heart," he said calmly. "Janos' heart had enough power to keep him alive while it was outside his body even while it lent you its unlife, but your own heart has been gone for centuries."

"I suppose I've never needed a heart." Kain's hand moved, slipping lightly beneath the neck of Raziel's shirt and traveling along his collarbone to his shoulder. The drawstrings of his shirt loosened, exposing pale skin to the cool morning air. Leaning forward, Kain pressed a kiss over his heart, his lips warm and rough—but not unpleasantly so. "You've always had enough heart for both of us," he murmured.

"Are you hoping that a little hackneyed flattery will cause me to forget that you have broken your promise?"

Kain hesitated, looking up at him with a pensive expression. "Should I have waited for you to kiss me first? I doubt I would have had long to wait considering the way you were admiring me while I slept."

"I was doing no such thing," Raziel countered. "You said I could have the bed all to myself and vowed not to touch me, but here you are sharing the bed and you've already touched me several times."

"You were holding my arm captive. I didn't want to wake you in order to reclaim it, so I had no choice but to lay down beside you."

"How did it happen to get close enough for me to 'capture' it in the first place?"

"I was trying to wake you from a dream," Kain replied absently. "I don't understand why you are magnifying the significance of this situation. It's not as if I crawled under the covers and molested you in your sleep. Your dignity was perfectly safe."

"You're not exactly in a position to defend yourself considering your history with keeping promises. I warned you that I was not going to be lenient this time around."

Kain's expression darkened. "I did not break my promise."

"I don't remember inviting you to share my bed."

"The bed is mine," Kain reminded sharply.

"I knew that was going to come back to haunt me."

"And I only touched you after you moaned my name in your sleep."

"I did not," Raziel said, though his uncertainty was obvious; he remembered only pieces of his dream, but he knew that Kain had been the central figure in it.

"How would you know? You were asleep."

"Exactly. How would I know? You could make up anything you wanted in order to cast the blame on me."

Kain sighed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Ah, Raziel. I've missed you."

The statement caught Raziel off guard and he regarded Kain warily.

Brushing his claws against Raziel's cheek, Kain murmured, "Only you could choose a locale like this for a dispute. Beds are meant for activities other than arguing, you know."

Raziel shook his head in amazement. "Heart or no heart, your libido seems to be in perfect health."

"Do you know how long it's been, Raziel?" Kain asked, his voice pitched low in that throaty rasp that made Raziel wanted to squirm away before he lost his resolve entirely.

"No. How long has it been?" Raziel asked with a glib smile. "Really. I'm curious. Because I'm sure you never touched a soul in all the time I was gone. Did you?"

Kain's brow arched and he leaned closer, the lower half of his body sliding partially on top of Raziel's though the blankets kept his presence from intruding too far. "Feeling possessive?"

"Doubting your loyalty," Raziel corrected.

"Loyalty?" Kain seemed to find that term amusing.

Rolling his eyes at the chuckle that rumbled out of Kain, Raziel countered acidly, "Commitment. Fidelity. Call it what you will."

Kain smirked and nipped lightly at Raziel's nose, his expression intolerably smug. "I thought you swore fealty to me. Not the other way around."

"Yes, I did," Raziel admitted, his eyes narrowing in a glare. "Twice. Unfortunately."

"Twice? Ah, but I thought that second time was more of a profession of love than anything else," Kain mused, his grin far too cocksure for Raziel's liking. "Calling yourself my right hand...my sword." Kain's knee pressed down against the covers, and Raziel had to struggle to keep his natural reaction to pressure in that region of his body from showing on his face. "If I hadn't been so horrified by your insane decision to sacrifice yourself, I might have been more shocked by the obscenity of your pledge."

Offended by the lewd interpretation, Raziel retorted, "I never expected to see you again, and if I was expressing my love, it was on a purely platonic level."

"Is that so?" Kain moved a fraction closer.

"It is."

Raziel could feel the heat of Kain's breath on his face as he murmured, "If that's how you feel, then tell me to leave."

Tingling with an unsettling mix of doubt and desire, Raziel gazed at Kain across the scant distance between them, the weight of Kain's body pressing insistently down on top him. "Damn you," Raziel whispered, knowing that Kain had won.

Resigning himself to his fate, he decided to take the initiative while he still had the chance, finally crossing the line that Kain had been carefully dancing around. Kain seemed to be entertained by his enthusiasm, smiling into the kiss as Raziel tried to crawl inside his mouth with a sense of repressed frustration. The truth was that it had been a very long time—for Raziel, at least—and he did not feel like taking things slow now that he had made up his mind.

Raziel's mind floated out of reach as Kain managed to find his way beneath the covers without breaking the kiss, and everything that followed was lost entirely to instinct and raw sensation.

* * *

Gazing up at the ceiling, Kain smiled in pure contentment, still drifting in the pleasant afterglow of their activities. The crimson duvet was all but on the floor, the sheets twisted around them but only half concealing their nudity in the reflection above. His hair was loose and tangled about them as well, white strands bright against the red sheets."I think it amused Vorador to give me the tackiest room in the house," he commented, arching a brow at himself in the mirror.

He could feel Raziel smile against his skin and he glanced over to where Raziel's dark head was nestled in the crook of his arm. "Maybe he expected you to take advantage of the quirks of the decor," Raziel remarked drowsily.

Kain chuckled at that. "While I don't think he would be surprised to find us sharing the bed, I think that his intention in giving me this room had more to do with my expected reaction to its tasteless ornamentation than any forethought for its usefulness."

"How gratifying to know that there is someone who can amuse themselves at your expense as you are so fond of doing to me."

"Where do you think I learned such skills?"

Kain looked over at the contours of Raziel's back when he failed to reply, wondering if he had dozed off to sleep. Seeing the pure, unbroken skin stretched across Raziel's shoulder blades, he couldn't help but think of the crimes he had committed against Raziel so long ago. His hand instinctively reached out to the flawless skin with an apologetic touch, but Raziel flinched as soon as he made contact, clearly remembering a similar touch and the feeling of broken wings that had followed.

"One day you will evolve," Kain said quietly, dragging his claws lightly over Raziel's back and feeling strangely sentimental. "And I will finally get to see you fly."

Raziel made a strangled sound somewhere between a whimper and a sob and shuddered, clearly overcome with emotion. For several excruciating moments he did not speak or even move, and Kain could feel his anguish as if it were his own. Rolling onto his side, Kain pulled Raziel back against him and cradled him close, stroking gentle circles over his skin and wishing that he would have had a little more tact than to bring up such a sore topic so thoughtlessly.

"I have no right to wish for such a thing, I know." The apology stuck in his throat with the awkward discomfort of inexperience.

"If things had been different..." Raziel replied haltingly, his voice thick with emotion.

"I was not jealous for a moment, if that is what you're asking. You were always my favorite, and I would have been desperately proud of you if I had not been so consumed with regret at the time."

"Regret," Raziel echoed sourly and Kain could feel him tense. "You ruined my wings, condemned me to centuries of agony and a mockery of an existence as that damned squid's plaything, but that wasn't enough. You also ruthlessly murdered all of my progeny. If you were so penitent, why did you continue to wound me at every turn?"

The accusations cut at him, and Kain felt a familiar sense of guilt writhe in his gut; the remorse had made itself evident shortly after his madness was cleansed away and it had been nagging at him ever since. "You were the only one I could rely on—the only one who could have endured what needed to be done," he said, quickly becoming defensive. "I did not understand my true enemy at the time, or I might not have had the resolve to throw you so carelessly into the abyss. As for your children, they would have suffered enduring torment at the hands of your jealous brothers after your demise. Their quick deaths were a mercy, not a punishment."

Raziel relaxed against him slowly, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "It's so easy to fall back into old patterns," he murmured. "But we have both made mistakes. I murdered my own brothers without hesitation, chased after you still blinded with revenge. You saved me from the Reaver, but when I learned that Janos' heart was beating inside your chest, I had no compunctions about taking it from you. I did not waver even though I knew it would surely mean your inevitable death."

"Yes. I orchestrated your hatred from the beginning, but I never truly allowed myself to doubt that your loyalty would win out in the end."

"Then perhaps it was not a mistake at all," Raziel retorted, his tone shifting back into more comfortable territory. "It's good for you to realize that your influence has its limits."

Relieved to find himself on familiar ground again, Kain nipped at Raziel's earlobe. "Interesting theory. Shall we test those limits?"

"Are you attempting to prove that you have as much stamina now as you did when you were young?" Raziel asked with a smile in his voice.

"As much? I imagine I have more," Kain replied, nuzzling at Raziel's neck just beneath his ear, sharp teeth teasing at the fragile skin without breaking it.

"You're still competing against your younger incarnation, aren't you?" Looking back over his shoulder and meeting Kain's eyes, Raziel conjectured, "You want to make certain that you have outdone him."

"Oh, I'm not terribly concerned about that," Kain replied mildly, his hand sliding down along Raziel's hipbone and toward more intimate areas. "I am far more experienced in getting reactions out of you than he could possibly be, and I have a long list of ways in which I intend to defile you before I will be satisfied—most of which would no doubt cause my younger incarnation to blush like a maiden."

"And what if I don't wish to be 'defiled?' Have you considered that possibility?"

Chuckling, Kain kissed Raziel lightly on the back of his neck. He knew better than to step onto that landmine.

"Well, I hope you are also considering taking a break at some point for a meal," Raziel said when he failed to respond. "We'll have to leave this room eventually, you know."

"Of course. Especially since some of my plans involve other areas of the house, including a particularly explicit strategy for corrupting Vorador's favorite chair."

Raziel laughed, a radiant sound that made Kain's empty chest ache. "I don't think I want to know."

"You'll enjoy it. I promise."

* * *

**Author's Note: Before you ask, I haven't written a lemon for the missing scene. Sorry to disappoint. I like to leave things open to the imagination...most of the time. ;) Hope you enjoyed it. I might have one more quick epilogue chapter to post after this, but it will likely be utter fluff. Thanks for reading!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note: Here's the utter fluff I promised a million ages ago. No idea why it took me this long to post it. I think I sort of forgot and I couldn't decide if I really wanted to put the ending touches on this one or not. It's hard to conclude a story... Anyway, it's short, but fun.**

* * *

"I don't understand why I am charged with helping you clean up this mess when I had nothing to do with the destruction." Raziel frowned sourly as he gathered a handful of books and stacked them neatly on a shelf. The library was in far worse shape than it had been after his scuffle with Kain. He had yet to hear a clear explanation for the cause of the devastation this time, though he was absolutely certain Kain had taken part in it.

"Your incessant whining is more than negating your contribution to the effort," Kain retorted, adjusting a bulky leather chair so that it covered an unseemly hole in the carpet.

"Does that mean I can leave?"

"No. It means that you should see to your wayward mouth before I find other, less savory uses for it."

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" Raziel asked sweetly, looking back at Kain over his shoulder. "Or an invitation?"

Kain shook his head wonderingly as he righted a metal vase on a wobbly side table. "For all your pretension of self-righteous virtue, you can be amazingly vulgar at times."

"I wonder who inspired that trait..."

"Vorador, perhaps. Certainly not me."

"I don't think you give yourself enough credit, Kain."

Laughing richly, Kain noted, "Why Raziel, that may be the first time you have ever suggested giving me credit for anything."

"And this may be the first time you have ever refused it."

"Can either of you lovebirds tell me why my library is still in shambles?" Vorador snapped from the doorway. Scowling at them each in turn, he said, "Perhaps if you spent less time flirting and more time working you would be done by now."

"Go easy on them," Janos coaxed, squeezing Vorador's shoulder gently.

Vorador's attention shifted to Janos and softened visibly. "You are far too forgiving."

"Let's go for a walk," Janos suggested with a gentle smile. "I'm sure your library will be in better shape when we return."

"An excellent idea," Kain said. Raziel hadn't noticed his proximity until he felt Kain's hand against his hip. "We are very busy here."

Vorador's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You're about to waste more time. I can see it in your eyes, Kain. Just...stay away from my chair."

The two vampires left the doorway, but Raziel felt heat rising to his cheeks even after he heard the front door open and close. "You don't think he knows, do you?" he whispered.

Kain chuckled, pulling Raziel back against him. "About the chair, you mean? If he did, he wouldn't have left us alone."

Raziel reluctantly stepped out of reach."We should finish cleaning this place up, though, just in case."

"Don't worry," Kain said with a lopsided smile, cupping Raziel's jaw tenderly to catch his attention. "I'll protect you from his wrath."

Raziel slapped his hand away with a disgusted groan and a roll of his eyes. Kneeling down next to a pile of books, he ignored Kain's questioning gaze.

"You don't believe me," Kain concluded.

"Of course not." Gathering a stack of books into his arms, Raziel stood up and began depositing them on the nearest shelf. "Have you already forgotten how you left me here to deal with him the last time? And even if I hadn't had such a recent reminder, I can't count how many times you have created a mess and left me to clean it up. So, no. I don't trust you to protect me from anything."

Kain considered this in silence before finally saying, "Good." Following Raziel's example, Kain picked up a broom and began sweeping up a broken vase. "I didn't raise you to be dependent on anyone."

Pausing with a book in his hand, Raziel glared at him.

"What?" Kain asked, arching a brow innocently.

Raziel shoved the book on the shelf. "Sometimes I wonder why I bother talking to you."

"Because you love to argue."

"I wouldn't say I love it," Raziel replied thoughtfully.

"Then you would be lying."

To Raziel's disappointment, Kain caught the book a moment before it hit his head.

"Vorador wouldn't appreciate the disrespect you are showing to his books."

"It's less disrespectful than what we did to his chair."

Shaking his head, Kain placed the book on a shelf and returned to gathering the shards of porcelain into a tidy pile. "Stop reminding me, or you will find yourself an unwilling participant in another salacious act that would no doubt raise Vorador's ire."

Despite his annoyance, Raziel felt a smile curving his lips. "I'm counting on it," he murmured under his breath.


End file.
